Are You Gonna Eat That?
by sholvakree
Summary: It was supposed to be stress release. Another way to fight the war (and each other). But through the continual intersection of food, sex and snark, two mortal enemies begin to forge a complicated relationship. Rated M for sex, blood, and some disturbing imagery. Cover image by kanako91.
1. Grapes

**An introduction for first-time readers: **Tumblr user iamartemisday was doing a 30 day shipping challenge, and day 14 asked for a prompt the user wanted to be turned into fanart/fanfiction. She (jokingly?) answered "grapes." I saw her post in the Amorra tag and decided to fill it, and was surprised by how much I enjoyed writing it.

So (unprompted), I wrote a second food story. Then a third. I was getting a nice little collection of one-shots.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, "Are You Gonna Eat That?" was born.

The story diverts from canon during the events of "The Voice in the Night." Instead of meeting Korra with an army of Equalists, Amon actually does come alone. After some fighting and some chi-blocking, they get to talking. Tenzin and the police move in, cutting their conversation short, so they make other arrangements to continue the discussion. The two keep meeting in secret and before they realize what's happened, they've tumbled into bed together.

This fic opens at some point after their first night together.

Their affair s is messy, tragic and painful.

But...

They have lots of good food.

They have lots of fantastic (angsty) sex.

They have lots of epic banter.

And maybe, **just maybe**, they will have a happy ending.

...but don't count on it.

_Disclaimer: characters are property of Bryke and Nickelodeon. Korra is 17/18 at the start of this fic._

* * *

**_Sharing is not one of Korra's _****_virtues._**

* * *

He emerges from the bathroom and his heart suddenly leaps into his throat.

She is holding it in her hands.

The deception is over.

The secret is out.

Korra has found his stash of grapes.

* * *

"Give them back," he growls as he approaches the bed.

"Why?" says Korra as she examines the fruit in the dim light.

"Because they're not yours," he says, making a grab for the precious treats. The cluster suddenly shoots overhead and hangs just out of his reach.

_Oh, if only she knew_, he thinks as he glares down at the smirking Avatar. He could've easily waterbent the grapes back down again. He could've easily done a lot of things, some of them pleasurable, and others _far_ more painful. _But she's not ready to know that. Not yet._

"Come here you." He dives on top of Korra, and their squabble devolves into a wrestling match of flailing limbs and naked flesh. Finally, he emerges sweaty and triumphant atop of Korra.

"Now will you give me my fruit?" he asks gently.

"Only if you promise to share," says Korra breathlessly. "We never got fresh grapes in the South Pole – we obviously don't have the climate for them and dried fruit keeps longer anyways. Please?"

She is doing the thing with her eyes again.

_Dammit._

"Fine. Just watch how much you e-"

The cluster descendes and nearly a third of the fruits pop off the bunch and drop into Korra's open mouth. She is deliberately slow in her chewing and gives a rather pronounced moan of pleasure (which _really_ doesn't help his concentration).

He glares at her again; she merely bats her eyelashes in faux surprise. "Oh, did you want some? I apologize for my poor manners."

She smiles _that_ smile and his cock twitches instinctively. _You just finished not twenty minutes ago_, he reminds himself. _Have some dignity and self-respect._

"Are you quite done yet?" he says with no small measure of exasperation.

Korra's expression falls. "Hey, I was just kidding with you. Honestly, if I've upset you then-"

_Don't cave, don't cave, don't cave, do-_

He sighs. "It's fine, Avatar. But I _have_ been waiting for a shipment of this particular grape for a _very_ long time and I would like to enjoy at least _one_ before you devour them all."

"Well in that case…" Korra bends the bunch down into her hands, picks off a grape and places it on her forehead.

"…what are you doing, Avatar?"

"Exactly what you asked me to do. I'm sharing." She looks up at him. "C'mon big boy."

_Fine, woman. I'll play your game._

* * *

He leans over and engulfs the grape in his mouth, making sure to run his tongue over Korra's skin in the most ridiculous manner possible. She merely giggles and pokes him in the ribs.

"Don't be so silly," she says playfully.

_Like you're one to talk._ "One grape hardly counts as sharing."

"You're right. It doesn't." This time the grape goes on her nose. He eats the fruit and plants a gentle kiss over her nostrils.

"Mmm," she murmurs appreciatively. "You've earned yourself another one."

This time the grape goes over her mouth. He doesn't even bother with eating the fruit; he captures her lips for a slow but searing kiss, letting his tongue slide against hers, slowly pulling and pushing her bottom lip between his own.

When he is done, he is satisfied to see a flush darken her cheeks.

_Serves you right, _he thinks with smug satisfaction.

"Wow," says Korra, blinking contently. "That just earned you three more grapes. _Just_ three, though."

"'What? Since when did you get the right to decide how many of _my_ grapes _I_ get to eat?_"_

Korra notices the concerned look on his face. "Don't worry. I promise not to eat any more of them."

The tension melts out of his body. "Well that's a relief. Three more and I can rest easy."

The first grape goes on her neck, and he kisses and nips the skin until he is certain that a love bite will be there the following morning.

The second grape goes in the space between her breasts; he resists the urge to kiss _those_ and instead lets his lips linger in order to feel the pulse of her heart nestled below.

Finally, she picks the third and last grape from the bunch. To his surprise, she brings it to his forehead, traces a line across the (fake!) scar on his face, and slides it under his chin before bringing it to rest on his lips.

She leans forward. He closes his eyes in anticipation-

And then the grape is gone. "Whoops, my bad," she says unapologetically.

He opens his eyes and gives her his fiercest glare yet. _Bloody tease_.

But then his eyes widen as she brings the grape down to slide over her right breast, taking care to brush it against the nipple; then she pulls it down her abdomen, letting it rest in her belly button before lifting it out a second later; then the grape goes lower and lower until...

**…**_**oh**_**. **

In retrospect, he doesn't know why he hadn't seen this coming.

"Well?" Korra whispers huskily, her eyes blazing with lust. "What are you waiting for? _**Eat it.**_"

He is all too happy to obey.


	2. Wine

_**In vino veritas, and the promise of a headache.**_

* * *

He stares into the bag with suspicion.

"What is this?" he asks.

"Well, Mr. Amon, sir, I believe _normal_ people call it a bottle," quips Korra.

He pulls the large gray-green object from its brown paper casing. "This isn't a bottle, Avatar; it's a jug."

"Must you always be so picky?" grumbles Korra.

"Only when you're involved, Avatar." He brings the jug up to his ear and swirls it around. "What's inside?"

"Rat poison. Figured I'd end your reign of terror once and for all," says Korra with a smirk.

He rolls his eyes beneath the mask. "I _do_ have some rather important letters to finish, Avatar. If you're just going to keep pulling my leg, then I suggest you leave. I'd hate to call my guards on you."

The dream from last night comes unbidden to his mind.

_ She lies naked and blindfolded on the table, her hands and legs bound to prevent her escape; a dozen Equalists and his faithful lieutenant watching her as he runs his gloved hand across her back…_

He smiles to himself.

"Then again…"

Korra makes a face. "Ugh, I didn't know you liked it like that."

"There are a great many things you don't know about me, Avatar," he says matter-of-factly. "Now please, I have indulged your childishness long enough…"

"Okay, okay!" snaps Korra. "I brought you some wine. Apology wine. You know, for eating all your grapes."

"After…" he adds, waiting for her response.

She sighs. "You know, for eating all your grapes when I promised not to. But in my defense," she grins, "I was tired after that workout you gave me. I needed a recovery snack."

"And my stamina meant nothing to you?" he replies, trying to feign hurt.

"Oh, I think your stamina was _just _fine," she purrs.

He tries his damnest not to blush, even though he knows she can't see it anyways.

"Anyways…" Korra points at the bottle. "Me. Wine. Apology. They're not grapes anymore, per se, but it's close enough, right?"

_I prefer rice wines to be honest. More body. More alcohol. And oddly enough it seems to aid my concentration. _

But Korra looks so eager to please, so eager to make amends. He glances over at his desk, considers the unwritten missives to Equalist operatives in Ba Sing Se and the Fire Nation capital.

_I have time for one drink._

"One drink, Avatar. That's it. I have work to do and don't need you here distracting me."

"Fine," says Korra. "One drink and I'm out of your hair."

_Just one drink._

* * *

He stares at his fingers, flexing them in curiosity, trying to recall when he had last felt this sensation. It is so…_strange._ His body feels so light and airy…and as for his hand…well, the feeling bears resemblance to hitting a funny bone, except infinitely more pleasurable.

_By the spirits, _he realizes, _I'm drunk. But I've _never_ been drunk. I've always been careful about how much I drink._

He looks down and realizes that his tunic is undone, his chest muscles proudly on display to the world.

_When did this happen?_

"…and so then I walk into the house carrying this giant penguin and my mother nearly has a heart attack…Amon?" asks Korra.

His eyes snap over to her. "My apologies, Avatar, I seemed to have-" He notices that Korra is down to her smalls and chest wrappings. "When did you undress?"

"About twenty minutes ago. I lost the bet, remember?"

"Bet?" he says, perplexed. "I don't remember any bet…" He glances at his wall clock. _So much for getting those letters out by tonight. I'll have to have to send them off with the noontime couriers. _"It seems I've forgotten a great many things, least of all the time."

"Wow. You really _are _drunk," says Korra in amazement. "I didn't think you were capable."

"Neither did I," he admits. He picks the wine jug off the ground (_it must be at least two-thirds empty_, he judged) and sniffs it.

_What the hell,_ he thinks with a shrug._ It probably won't matter at this point._

The wine is sweet and warm on his tongue – too sweet, in fact. _I recognize the grapes that went into this. Why did I not immediately stop at the first sip? _He glances at Korra. _But of course. Distractions. Always distractions._

He chuckles. "It seems your general lack of thoughtfulness-" (The look of indignation on Korra's face was _priceless_) "-extends to your wine selection, Avatar." He shakes the container. "You purchased a dessert wine, and this particular brand is not really meant for casual drinking."

"Oh really?" says Korra, giving him one of her infamous stinkeyes. "Didn't stop you from enjoying most of the bottle, now did it?"

"In my defense, I was more taken by the gift-giver than the gift itself." Korra blushes. "But-" he adds, deciding that it is worth the effort to assuage her pride, "-the wine _is_ agreeable." His vision blurs and he covers the eyeholes of his mask until it passes. "Though perhaps next time you should purchase a smaller quantity."

"Fair enough," says Korra with a sigh. She stands up from her chair and kneels down to retrieve her pants. "I should probably get going. I've kept you long…" She stops and looks at him.

He freezes. _Oh no. I recognize that look._

Korra sashays over to him and gives him a casual side-eye as she gently lifts the container from his hands. "Dessert wine, hmm?"

And before he can stop her, she pours the remaining alcohol all over him. The wine makes dark patches in his clothes, falls in little rivulets down his chest.

If Korra could've seen his face, she would have laughed at the comically flabbergasted expression on it.

"What the hell, Avatar?" he shouts as she straddles his lap.

"Just following your instructions," she says playfully as she leans in to kiss his shoulder. "I'm having-" She kisses his collarbone. "-dessert-" She kisses his neck. "-with my wine."

_You evil minx,_ he thinks as Korra kisses her way down his chest, stopping to (gently!) pull a nipple between her teeth.

His patience quickly wears out, and after lifting the mask to expose his lips, he pulls Korra's head up and kisses her. And though earlier he'd complained about the overpowering flavor of the wine, it tastes _just right_ on her lips.

"Delicious," he murmurs as his left hand slides downwards to hug the curve of her ass. She pulls the hood from his head and tangles her fingers in his hair.

He feels his erection straining against his trousers. _Perhaps my work _can_ wait for the time being._

He starts to remove the mask with his free hand, but Korra stops ruffling through his hair and grabs his wrist. "Leave it on for tonight," she says, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

He remembers his earlier admonition.

_"There are a great many things you don't know about me, Avatar." _

_Ah, you stupid, stupid man._

"As you wish, Avatar," he says softly, lifting her into his arms and carrying her over to the bed.


	3. Chocolate

(song suggestion: "Brown Skin" by India Arie)

**_Sensuality at its finest._**

* * *

The first time he bought her a box of chocolates, it was done on impulse.

He'd been walking through the financial district – one could only stay masked and underground for so many hours at a time – and wandered by a food cart. Three rows of little red boxes were nestled between a tray of dried seaweed and a sign advertising the cart's fresh pentapus soup.

He leaned down to examine the boxes. The cook took notice and immediately made a pitch.

"It's a nine-piece batch," he began, "made by my brother-in-law…he owns a cocoa farm on one of the Fire Nation islands…good quality stuff, I assure you. And for you, friend, it's only one yuan…if you buy a bowl of my soup."

Amon had never put much stock in the radio advertisements hawking chocolates as birthday and anniversary gifts, but getting involved with the Avatar had tempered his skepticism about _many_ things. If nothing else, the gesture would be appreciated, and every move concerning the Avatar, no matter how small, was critical.

_Bring her closer to you. Lower her guard. Make her vulnerable._ That's why he was doing this.

At least, that's what he _told_ himself.

He handed over a five yuan note, took his purchases and walked towards the waterfront, casually sipping the soup (which was _delicious_) out of its flimsy paper cup.

Later, when the Avatar came to him, he gave her the box and felt immensely satisfied with himself.

She put the first piece in her mouth, bit down, and immediately spit it out.

That night, he learned the most important rule about buying chocolate: don't skimp.

* * *

It's always a fascinating sight, watching her eat: he sees her eyes close in anticipation as the chocolate enters her mouth; as her teeth bite down he notices the hint of resistance _just_ before the substance yields to the force of her jaw; he wonders at the look of rapture on her face as the silky sensation flows over her tongue, hears the moan of appreciation as the flavors fill her mouth, and her eyes re-open, their pupils wide with delight.

He prefers to buy the simplest brands of chocolate. The unity, the purity of each piece's shape and construction appeals to him, appeals to the ideals he hopes that the world will one day come to share.

But bite into those simple squares and underneath lies a complex mix of tastes and sensations – not unlike his relationship with Korra.

She, of course, prefers the more elaborate ones – chocolates with fillings: caramel and lemon and mango and nuts; chocolates sprinkled with coconut or finished with carefully drawn icing designs. He fusses about the cost and admonishes her frivolity but she knows he's full of it; he always honors her requests.

The odd thing is this: Korra never eats milk chocolate, only dark. His curiosity continues to grow and grow until one day it forces him to ask her what contributes to her preference.

The answer surprises him.

She actually prefers the milk – she's never been one for bitter foods – but ever since…_this_…started, she's eaten nothing but the dark, even when she's not with him.

"But why, Avatar?" he asks incredulously.

"Because every time I bite down it reminds me that there's only one way this can end," says she sadly.

He can only respond with silence. _Perhaps the Avatar is wiser than I thought_.

* * *

One night they lay side-by-side with her back pressed against his chest; he takes her from behind, slowly, painstakingly, listening for every hitch of breath, feeling each squirm of tension. And as he takes it all in – the sweet taste of her skin, the dark color of her nipples, the smell of her locks above and the feeling of her curls below – he can't help but compare the woman writhing in front of him to the treats lying on the bedside table.

_A goddess made of chocolate and caramel._

That is what the Avatar is to him.

* * *

**Author's note: **Though Korra doesn't know it, she and Amon share a favorite treat – candied sea prunes dipped in milk chocolate. It reminds them both of home and happier times (more subjective for Noatak).

Paper cups, believe it or not, were invented in 1908.


	4. Sea Urchin

**_You have to admit that it's a thorny issue._**

* * *

"There is no way you're sticking that thing in me."

"You're more than capable of accommodating it, Avatar."

"No way. It'll hurt like hell."

"I assure you, I'll be gentle."

Korra explodes. "When you said you wanted to give me acupuncture, I thought 'you know, it might just be an elaborate ploy for Amon to stab me in the eyes, but I'll risk it – after all, they're _really_ small needles.' Then I show up and find out that you're planning to use _freaking sea urchin spines_!"

"They aren't much bigger than conventional needles. And besides, why waste good material?"

In her anger Korra misses the second bit. "Do you know how many times I've impaled myself with those things?"His face _barely_ twitches and Korra _pounces_ on the motion. "And don't you even _think_ about making a dirty joke, or I'll…"

"Or you'll what?" he dares her. "Set me on fire?" He points to the makeup on his face. "Been there, done that."

"Not funny."

"You only say that because you find it hilarious," he replies, not unkindly. "And what's the point of life if you can't make light of your misfortunes, however horrible, every once in a while? Now strip, young Avatar."

"'Young' Avatar? I'm of age, thank you very much," she grumbles as she sheds her clothes.

"And still quite a ways younger than me, not that you seem to care about that," answers Amon with a smile.

"I don't. You don't seem to mind having a nubile eighteen year-old in your bed on a regular basis."

"When the spirits hand you a gift, you don't question their generosity," he replies sweetly.

Korra's eyes narrow. "Oh, so I'm a _gift _now, am I?"

He presses a hand to his face. _I try to complement her and she not incomprehensibly considers it an insult. _"Sit_ down, _Avatar," he sighs irritably.

A naked Korra huffs and puffs and pretends to blow invisible hairs from her face but does as he asks. He lets out a slow breath of relief. "Now _stay there_. I've prepared something special for you." He strides over to the kitchen and disappears behind the countertop. He opens the floor-bound icebox and retrieves the dish he prepared earlier. He brings it over to the Avatar and removes the covering.

She examines the plate with confusion. "Um…what _is_ that, exactly?"

He looks down at the offering and his heart sinks. Placing the _uni_ rolls in the icebox had not done them any favors; instead of firming up the dough wraps as he'd hoped, the cold temperature had somehow accelerated their disintegration. _I knew I should have bought pre-made ones from the store._ _But I let ego interfere with rationale. Stupid, stupid, stupid. _

"It was supposed to be an _uni_ roll," he stammers, "with cabbage, rice and fresh ginger. I had some problems with…" _Since when do I stammer?_ He shakes his head and tries to recover. "There are many among the four nations who propagate the use of sea urchin as an aphrodisiac."

"Really," murmurs Korra sarcastically. "I've heard the same thing said about dried armadillo lion tails and ground boar-q-pine tusks, and I'm not inclined to take the word of a creepy old man who runs an exotic food booth at every Southern Water Tribe festival. But compared to him your assessment of sea urchin sounds totally legit." She makes a face and mockingly wiggles her fingers at him. "I'm guessing you've experienced its erotic power?"

"No, Avatar," he admits, trying _so very hard_ not to let his irritation show. "But after I see to your ailing back, I intend for you to experience _my_ erotic power. And I'm just _dying_ to know if the _uni_ aids your enthusiasm for…" (He makes his voice as low as possible) "…_additional stress relief_."

Korra's face resets and she blushes _hard_. "Oh. Well. Um...in that case…" She picks up a roll and, after fumbling with its spilling contents, stuffs the whole thing into her mouth.

He facepalms again. "You're not supposed to wolf down an _uni_ dish. Take your time, savor the fl-"

"Have you eaten this stuff before? It's good," mumbles Korra through a mouthful of food.

"I had the smallest morsel to ensure it was well-seasoned-"

"Try it. You'll like it."

"I'm afraid my taste for seafood isn't what it used to be. Besides, they are meant for y-"

"Oh, stop being all 'noble' and 'above it all' and eat up," snaps Korra.

He grudgingly picks up a roll and places it in his mouth. _That _is _delicious_, he thinks with astonishment. The taste is phenomenal, and he closes his eyes to properly savor things. _And Lieu always complained that I was a shit cook…_

He opens his eyes to see the Avatar giving him a sultry gaze. "Well, how's the _uni_ working for you?" She bats her eyelids. "Feeling…_stimulated_, yet?"

He gazes at her magnificent body, honed and sculpted by years of training; his loins _ache_ and he wants nothing more than to push her into the sheets and bury himself in her warm heat. _But not yet. _

"No, Avatar. Not even a twitch."

"Liar," she teases.

As Korra reaches for the last roll he notices a new mark on her side. "That scar – one of my Equalists, I hope?" he says mockingly.

"You wish," she smirks back at him. "Last week some Triple Threat Triad guys jumped me after I left a meeting at City Hall. I could've healed the wound, but I thought it over and decided that a proper Avatar should have battle scars."

"I'd hardly claim that getting scratched while beating up idiot gangsters counts as getting a battle scar," states Amon.

"Shut your face," she mumbles.

"And a proper Avatar should always rebut their foes with more intelligent insults than 'shut your face.'"

"…shut your face."

He laughs and tells her to lie down on her stomach. As she gets comfortable, he goes over to the nearby table and picks up a large handful of urchin spines; after examining them carefully, he walks back and slides onto the bed, opting to kneel down beside Korra's breast. "Now try and relax, Avatar. You defeat the whole purpose of this exercise if you tense up too much." He mentally runs over all the relevant _chi_ points in the human back.

"Yes, tell the girl who you're sticking with razor sharp spines to relax. Really." She winces. "Just let me know when. That way I can at least brace myself."

"It's a bit late for that, seeing as I've already put four of them in you."

"Wait, _what_?"

"See for yourself." Korra wrenches her head and he blurts out "Gently_, gently_. Don't disturb the spines."

She can barely make out the blurry shapes rising from her back. Her mouth drops open in surprise. "But…I didn't feel a thing."

"You _were_ focused on complaining." In truth, he was employing the _tiniest_ bit of bloodbending to dull the nerves and prevent any bleeding from happening (he'd already fiddled with the spines to make them safer for acupuncture, but one could never be too careful_). In truth, I could just give her a massage and subtly bloodbend the tension out of her muscles. But that would be cheating. Besides, I desperately need a refresher._ Every chi point was important to the body, even the ones not directly related to bending. Practicing on Korra was an excellent way to keep that knowledge fresh in his mind.

"As you can see, knowing the body's _chi _points is handy for more than subduing wayward benders." He carefully presses Korra's shoulder before inserting more spines there. "You have a lot of knots in these muscles, Avatar."

"Between probending, my airbending training and Tarrlok's task force-"

_My idiot brother grows ever bolder. The day he's out of the picture will be a joyous one indeed._

"-and kicking your Equalists asses-"

"Now you're exaggerating."

She ignores his interruption. "-I've been under a lot of stress."

"Fair enough, Avatar," he smiles.

He continues with the acupuncture, checking in with Korra every few moments to see how she's holding up, and she grudgingly admits that _yes_, the urchin spines _are_ working.

Actually, they work _too_ well.

About halfway through the session Amon goes to relieve himself, and when he returns from the water closet some five minutes later he finds the Avatar fast asleep.

_So much for the sex...but she is still quite a sight. _

He grins as he carefully removes the spines from her back, then kisses the Avatar on the cheek and leaves her to rest. He goes to his desk and pulls out the list of vendors who service the probending arena. _Who might sympathize…and who can be bought off?_

Korra wakes up a few hours later and curses when she realizes how late it is. He quietly shuffles his papers back into their proper drawers as she hastily throws on her clothes and lumbers over to him.

"Tenzin's going to kill me," she groans as she slips on her armbands in front of him.

"You said it yourself: you're an adult. Who is he to question where you are and what you do?" he proclaims cheekily.

"You're an asshole," she says casually, but kisses him on the cheek. "But thanks. And my back feels _much_ better now. Even if you did skewer me with urchin spines. I'll be back tomorrow, but not for a while after that. Fire Ferret stuff. You should come see us play," she mumbles. "I mean, if you're not too busy taking over the city and all that."

"I'll try and make an appearance." _Far more than that, I'm afraid._

"Good. Well, see ya." And the Avatar disappears.

* * *

The next morning Amon wakes up with hives all over his body.

Apparently he is allergic to sea urchin.

* * *

**Author's note: **There is a lot of debate about whether sea urchin spines are venomous or not (I'm obviously assuming "no"). The pedicellariae _between_ the spines, however, **are** venomous.


	5. Fire Flakes

**_Six-alarm blaze. Definitely six alarms._**

* * *

He turns the volume up just a little louder.

_"Mako's in the drink and out of the match. And Bolin keeps playing with one good arm! I gotta hand it to him, this kid's got grit! But how long can he keep it up?"_

He hears a splash through the speaker.

_"Apparently, not very long. The Ferrets' dream of making it to the finals now rests in the Avatar's hands. But with three on one, I don't like her odds." _

Bending noises.

_"What an unbelievable effort here by Korra! She's dodging every element the Wasps throw at her! The Avatar finally gains some ground, but with only ten seconds remaining, it might be too little too late!"_

He hears a large water whip, three yells of surprise, and a huge splash.

_"It's the big kibosh! What a knockout! It didn't seem possible, folks, but the Fire Ferrets are headed to the finals!"_

He smiles and turns off the radio.

* * *

About a half-hour later there is a knock from outside. He stands up from his desk and walks over to the door; upon opening it, he finds an Equalist guard standing at attention with a bucket of popcorn and a large bag of fire flakes tucked under their right arm.

"The Avatar sends her greetings, sir," says the muffled voice from behind the mask.

"Oh? And what exactly did she say?"

"I'm afraid that's best discussed in private."

"Then by all means, come in," he replies silkily, giving a mock bow as the soldier enters. He closes the door behind him.

The Equalist removes her mask to reveal the grinning face of Avatar Korra. "Okay, I'll admit it: it's fun sneaking around your base in your uniforms. But I'm still gonna wear _my_ stuff here too. It'll keep me alert, remind me how incredibly stupid this whole thing is." She tugs at her jacket just below the neck. "Besides, this thing's a little tight across the chest."

"Might I suggest knocking someone out and stealing their clothing to replace your supposedly defective uniform?"

"Hmm…someone like you, perhaps?" she asks slyly. She reaches up to his face and pulls the mask away, putting it on her own face instead. "Do you think I could make a convincing Amon?"

"I think you make a convincing teenage girl: petulant, possessive-"

"Pretty."

"Very much so."

"Wish I could say the same for you." She jerks her head to the side, and he knows she's poking fun at his scar.

_If only she knew the truth,_ he chuckles silently. "It matters not."

Korra still smiles, but the conversation turns to more serious matters. "So the Fire Ferrets won their semifinal match today. We're in the championship match."

"I caught the very end of your fight on the radio. You have my congratulations. Truly."

She looks away with embarrassment. "That's…sweet of you."

"I just hope you are capable of defeating the Wolfbats. It would be heartening to see a team of such arrogance and privilege fall at the hands of those whom they consider less able than themselves."

Korra's face contorts into a comically grotesque expression. "I swear I'm gonna beat that Tahno guy's face in! All his talk about '_real_ pro bending' and '_private lessons_.' As if I don't know what 'private lessons' _really_ means."

"I assure you, Avatar, you don't need any lessons in _that_ subject."

She blushes and punches him in the shoulder. "Stop it, you dirty old man. I didn't come here for sex and I _really_ don't need you setting me off." She goes over to the table and puts the foodstuffs down. "I figured that since you probably weren't coming to the match, being 'rah, bending is evil, rah!' and all, I'd bring you goodies, we'd stuff our faces, I give you the blow-by-blow and show you just what you're missing. We could even listen to the news - I'm sure they're gonna do some sort of tournament retrospective something or the other."

He wisely decides not to make any crude jokes about "blow-by-blow" (besides, he does not really care that particular sexual activity).

* * *

He spends the next two hours devouring her food and listening to various things: Korra's comical reenactments of tournament highlights, her rants about living with a bunch of monks, the Republic Times radio bulletin, and the evening jazz roundup.

At one point, Korra shoves one handful too many of fire flakes into her mouth; her eyes water and she tries frantically waving air in her mouth. Eventually, she runs for the kitchen sink, and he laughs as she runs the cool water over her singed tongue.

"For someone who's practically a firebender, you appear to have a rather poor tolerance for spicy things."

"Shutuuuup," she whines from underneath a torrent of water.

* * *

Korra has been resting her head against his shoulder for a while when she abruptly sits up and stretches her arms out.

"I'd better get going," she says reluctantly. "Tenzin's probably ready to send out a search party. I told Bolin and Mako that I wanted to go celebrate solo, and they thankfully didn't question or argue with me." She pauses, as if she's unsure she wants to reveal what she's about to say. "We've had some…personal issues of late. But they're resolved now, hopefully for good."

"May I ask-"

"No. You can't," she answers, pursing her lips.

*_knock knock knock_*

"Fun fact: being an Avatar gives you an acute sense of timing."

"Liar."

"Learned from a master," she says, giving him a playful yet dark look. She dons her mask and heads for the door. She puts her hand on the latch, stops, and looks back. "You know, as stupid as this is going to sound, I was wondering…I mean, you probably shouldn't, being the leader of a massive anti-bending movement and whatnot but…I mean, just for the full effect; the radio doesn't really do it justice-"

He knows what she's trying to ask, but he wants to hear her say it.

"Avatar…are you suggesting that I-"

*_knock knock knock*_

The moment is lost.

"Never mind: dumb idea." She gives him a little wave. "Night."

He watches as Lieu eyes the retreating Avatar, though his second-in-command can't discern who is under the mask.

"…company, sir?" asks Lieu pointedly.

"Perhaps. Would you take offense?"

Lieu's posture stiffens. "Not at all sir. What's past is past. I'm just – _curious._"

"You needn't worry. I've made the boundaries perfectly clear this time. She won't be a distraction."

_I hope._

"Has the payment been delivered?" he continues.

"2500 yuan was discreetly delivered to each referee as instructed. The Wolfbats should receive preferential treatment during the championship match."

"Excellent. Public opinion doesn't make an attack on the Avatar prudent – _yet_ – but breaking a bully like Tahno and his two companions should soften a good deal of the fallout from destroying the stadium." He retrieves some papers from his desk and hands them to Lieu. "Those requisition approvals you asked for. Oh, and double check that the popcorn vendors have all the appropriate paperwork. I'd hate for months of planning to be upended by unforeseen health and safety inspections."

"Yes sir," chuckles Lieu, who takes the documents and leaves.

_Alone again._

He sits down at his desk, leans back in the chair, and glances at the half-eaten bag of fire flakes lying on the table where he and Korra had left it.

He thinks of the building where it was sold, and all the institutions, physical, spiritual and mental, that said building has perpetuated in order to subjugate nonbenders.

_Let it all burn_.

* * *

Three days later he makes his threat on the championship match.

Then, when game night arrives, he attacks the stadium.

* * *

**Author's notes: **Shiro Shinobi's dialogue is lifted straight from the show and is therefore not mine.

This chapter was just a haiku when I first posted it, but I later decided to rewrite for two reasons: one, because I wrote the haiku out of laziness and in hindsight that just seems lame; two, because I think it makes a less jarring/sudden transition from the original collection of one-shots to the fully plotted fic it eventually became.

From this chapter forward there is still plenty of food, sex and snark, but it's full steam ahead for the actual plot of this story.


	6. Narook's Noodles

**_A comfort food for every occasion. Well, maybe not _****every****_ occasion._**

* * *

After the Equalists' attack on the pro-bending arena, Korra doesn't visit him for weeks.

He doesn't blame her. After all, he'd not only terrorized thousands of civilians and caused several million yuan worth of damage, but he'd destroyed a number of police blimps and (unintentionally) killed several officers in the process.

He can already see the argument playing out in his head.

* * *

_"You didn't need to kill those people in the blimps!" she screams, tears streaming down her face. "They weren't trying to kill you! They were just trying to do their jobs and keep everyone inside the arena safe! What the hell were you thinking?"_

_"As usual, Avatar, your refusal to face the facts reflects an overall lack of intelligence," he snarls. "This is a _war. _War requires battles, and we have already had a battle or two, haven't we? And when battles occur, casualties happen – even when you aren't actively trying to kill your opponents." His eyes narrow. "And there _will _come a day when you or I or someone else stokes the flames of this conflict; the violence will erupt, and _then _you will understand what killing _truly _is."_

_"Is that really how you feel, Amon?" Korra's eyes spring to life as fire erupts in her hands. "Then I guess our relationship is over." She rushes at him, intending to subdue, maim, kill…he doesn't know._

_His response, on the other hand, is clear._

_He stretches out his hands and a horrified Korra is bloodbent into submission. "Yes, Avatar," he says coldly, advancing on her. "It is." _

_He lays his thumb on her forehead, ignoring her terrified expression and…_

* * *

He shudders at the darkness of his own thoughts – an opportunity he would have _relished_ mere months ago was now an unwelcome possibility.

His mood is _not_ improved by the news that Hiroshi Sato has been exposed as an Equalist sympathizer. Then Chief Beifong resigns and Tarrlok begins to consolidate more and more power for himself.

He has long thought that if Lin Beifong were ever to vacate her role as police chief, the departure would create the necessary power vacuum for his brother to implement plans to crack-down on the non-bender population; Tarrlok's lust for power and control (a sensation he was all too familiar with) would likely cause him to push too hard and too fast, finally giving the Equalists a legitimate reason to remove him from power and flaunt his debending as a move for justice and equality.

Instead, his younger sibling continues to move in very subtle and piecemeal steps. _Perhaps I no longer know him as well as I thought_, he grumbles to himself.

As for Korra…well…

He prays that she doesn't come back to the den.

* * *

He returns from a raid on some remnants of the Red Monsoons to find the Avatar sitting at his desk. He instantly freezes, fearing that she'd broken the locks and rifled through all the drawers, hidden or otherwise.

"Don't worry, I haven't been snooping around. Those are the rules, right?" she snaps bitterly.

"Avatar…" he begins, but Korra holds up a hand to stop him.

"Look…I just needed some time to think about…what happened. All of it." She pauses. "Sorry about Hiroshi Sato."

"You're no sorrier about Hiroshi than I am about the arena attack," he states, crossing his arms.

"Yeah," she admits defiantly. "I'm not sorry." She rises from the desk and stands before him. "Look," she sighs, "we both knew that things would probably turn out like…_this_. Just like all the dark chocolate." She smiles sadly. "In truth, I should just curse you to your face, walk out of here, and prepare myself for our inevitable 'showdown of destiny…' which, given my current level of ability – as much as it pains me to admit it – you'll probably win."

He is stunned by the confession. Thankfully the mask obscurs the look of shock on his face.

"But the problem is…I can't walk away from this. I need…_this_. You _get_ me. You get me in a way that few people ever have. I mean, Tenzin and Lin understand the whole 'responsibilities' and 'burdens of power' and 'living up to the legacy of their predecessors-'"

He wants to point out that _so does he_, but remains silent.

"-but you get _me._ Korra. The weird girl from the Southern Water Tribe who tells bad jokes and burps really loudly. The girl who likes walking in the snow without a jacket and loves dancing to jazz music. The girl who just wants to make a difference and have fun doing it. And ironically the only guy my age who really gets _that_ girl, I have no interest in." She laughs bitterly. "Instead I go after his brother – who's dating my _best friend_, by the way-" (_Wait, _what_ did she just say?_) "-because it's easier than owning up to the fact that I'm fucking my nemesis on a regular basis and _enjoying it._ Because it's easier than owning up to the fact that I enjoy being _with_ you, in every sense of the word. And I _know_ things are only going to get worse – not just between the Equalists and the city, but between you and me – and I still can't walk away."

She takes two steps backwards. "But I'm not ready to let you in again – in any sense of the word – just yet. We need to talk about this. But not right now. I'm already late as it is." She heads for the door.

"But how-" he stutters.

"We'll figure something out." And just like that, she's gone.

* * *

He's sitting in the booth and already he regrets ever coming up with this hare-brained scheme.

_This is the single dumbest idea you've ever had, _he thinks to himself.

**_Which one?_** says a nasty little voice in his head. **_The idea of meeting the Avatar in broad daylight? Or the idea of not wearing your makeup and having _****that****_ little secret blown to bits?_**

_Republic City knows Amon as a man whose face was scarred by firebending_, he hisses back. _What else was I supposed to do? Walk around with a fake burn and draw suspicion?_

**_Lots of people have scars. You could get away with it._**

Maybe _before the arena bombing. Now there's not a chance in hell that running into a cop won't make him or her tail me out of paranoia. I don't need that._

**_Fair enough, _**the voice conceded. **_But that still begs the question: why even come out in the open at all? You could have gotten take-away, picked up a bunch of noodles and brought them back to the lair._**

_We need to have this discussion on neutral ground. _

**_Really?_**

_Okay, _she _needs to have this discussion on neutral ground. Having it out in my quarters…it gives me too much of a psychological advantage._

**_And this is a _****bad****_ thing…why?_**

_This talk isn't just about the oppression of nonbenders, it's about _us.

**_So it's an _****us ****_now, is it?_**

_You want me to spell it out? It's not just about the sex. Our relationship is more…substantial. More complicated. Our…_goals_…are complicated._

**_And by "goals" you mean your burgeoning feelings of looooooove…_**

_I don't love Korra. _

**_And I think differently. _**

_No you don't. You're in my head. I tell you what to think._

**_No, _****Noatak****_. _****I****_ tell _****you****_ what you don't want to hear._**

His internal squabble ends once Korra walks into the restaurant. To her credit, she does not betray any sort of emotion after seeing his unscarred face, but merely slides into the seat next to him.

"We can talk more quietly this way," she says flatly.

"Agreed," he answers quietly.

She glances around. "The place isn't as full as I thought it'd be."

"Late afternoon's a good time for things like this – after the lunch rush but before the dinner crowd. I've always liked this back corner. We should have plenty of privacy."

"You've been here before?" says Korra, surprised.

"Narook's makes the best seaweed noodles in the city. It'd be a crime not to eat here at least once." He smiles. "And he always has the best rice wines."

Korra glances at his face. "Somehow, I'm more disappointed than surprised. About the scar, I mean. Or should I say lack thereof."

His smile fades. "You can't honestly expect me to claim I was attacked by a firebender and not have the marks to prove it," he growls.

"No, I guess not. Amon-" she begins, but stops when she notices a server approaching their booth. They both rattle off their orders: the large noodle bowl (duck for Korra, pork for Amon) and rice wine; dessert is ice cream for Korra, a sea prune tart for Amon.

As the girl leaves to pass on their selections to the chef, she gives Korra a knowing look. "I must say…that's a pretty hot date you have, Avatar," she says with a blush.

"Oh, he's not a date," answers Korra, patting Amon on the shoulder. "Relative. Uncle on my dad's side. Was passing through the city and wanted to grab a bite with his niece." Korra jabs her thumb at him. "Bit hard of hearing, this one. It's why I'm sitting next to him as opposed to…"

"Ah, say no more," says the serving girl, giving him a sympathetic look as she walks away.

Korra ignores his look of annoyance. "As I was saying," she says, quietly clearing her throat. "Amon…what are we doing?"

"I thought we were having a late lunch," he responds weakly.

"You know damn well what I mean."

"Fine. I have no idea what we're doing, Avatar," he confesses. "And though we seem to be flogging a dead eel-hound at this point, it's not going to get any easier for either of us. I won't stop the revolution just as you won't stop in your quest to 'bring balance' to Republic City." He looks at her intently. "The Equalist movement will continue to grow. The council will continue to push back. And then the boiling point will be reached, and the city will be engulfed in open warfare. I've been planning this for several years after I realized that politics would not be the solution." He lays his hand on her shoulder. "People will die, Avatar. Again, this is not my intention – I wish to equalize the bending populace, not slaughter it. But people _will_ die. Maybe you. Maybe me," he admits.

"And what if I don't want people to die?" says Korra defiantly.

"The realities of war demand-"

"Then don't go to war!"

"We have no other options left!"

"Then I'll _make_ you see that there _are_ other options!" barks Korra, eyes ablaze. "Please," she begs, her voice softening, "give me some time. We can work out a solution…for the sake of everyone in this city, _please_."

He opens his mouth to say "no," to draw a line in the sand, but the words tumble from his lips before he can stop them. "Alright, Avatar. I will halt our current escalation." His eyes narrow. "But I will not stop cleansing the bending criminals of the city, and you will not make any moves to stop me. Additionally, you will end your involvement with Tarrlok's task force. I know the arena attack spurred you to rejoin, but I cannot have the two of you working in tandem. What he does on his own foolish notions is his business," (_and I will deal with him_ _eventually_) "but any further participation from you and the deal is off. Make whatever excuses you find necessary. Is that acceptable, Avatar?"

Korra grits her teeth in frustration but nods her consent.

"Thank you. I realize I ask a lot."

"And what about-" she begins.

"After we eat," he says, interrupting. "Let's not ruin our appetites."

* * *

The noodles are just as delicious as he remembers. Pork is not, strictly speaking, _traditional_ water tribe fare (as he well knows), but importing fresh seal meat from the poles is expensive, and most people in Republic City wouldn't care for it anyways. Still…

*SLURP*

He looks over at Korra and glares. "Manners, please," he says with annoyance.

"Silence. I'm _trying_ to _enjoy_ the _noodles_," whispers Korra before inhaling another mouthful.

"Were you brought up or dragged up?" he barks indignantly.

"I have a polar-bear dog for a pet," she responds blithely between bites. "Only way I could tame something as wild as that is if I was even wilder." She lifts the bowl to her lips and makes a point of slurping down the remaining broth as audibly as possible. The noise is so loud that it draws the eyes of the few customers currently in the restaurant.

As Korra puts the bowl down, her "bite me" expression is so comical that his anger melts away and he bursts out laughing. She starts punching him in the shoulder, but soon enough the Avatar is laughing as well.

After their desserts are brought out and both parties quietly dig into them, Korra decides it's time to revisit the question. "So…what about us?" she pries between bites of ice cream.

"About us…well…" He hesitates. "There are…advantages to keeping our current relationship as is. Open channels of communication between the sides, for one. And it gives us something tangible on which to focus our attentions, not just the esoteric notions that drive both our ideologies."

"I figured you'd be a big fan of the esoteric."

"You can't see the esoteric. You can't hold it in your arms, dry its tears, hear its cries for help. That requires a human element. My cause may be justice and equality, Avatar, but I didn't start this revolution for justice or equality's sake. I did it because I knew people affected by bending oppression. And their stories affected me." He smiles. "Tell me this Avatar: if I hadn't kidnapped that earthbender friend of yours, would you have gotten involved in this conflict as soon as you did?"

"Of course – I have a responsibility as the Avatar-"

"-which is why you headed straight for the probending arena, of course. An Avatar's responsibility," he sneers.

"I would have fought you eventually!"

"Only after I'd made my moves on the city. If you'd truly been interested in stopping the Equalists you would have been after me the second you stepped foot in the city. You'd have signed on with Tarrlok's task force the moment he asked you, despite the fact that he's an asshole of the highest order." He leans in. "I heard about all the excuses – 'I have probending, I have airbending training.' You didn't want to admit the truth, Avatar – until Tarrlok made it personal at the dinner party, _you just didn't care_. Until little Bolin was snatched away, _you just didn't care._ And until I was standing over the bodies of my neighbor's three dead children, I was just a man trying to live my life in peace and I _just didn't care_ about the crimes of the bending elite."

He feels an odd sense of satisfaction and guilt at the crestfallen expression on Korra's face. "I'm sorry, Avatar," he adds quickly. "I did not mean for this discussion to get so philosophical. And so completely off topic."

"I'll say," is her only response. Clearly his words had left a mark.

"Look," he says, taking a sip of his wine, "all of the political bullshit aside, you want this…whatever _this_ is…and so do I." He surprises them both by laying a hand atop of hers. "So we don't stop. We keep going until our affair runs to its bitter, teary end." The right side of his mouth crooks upwards. "And when the day comes to finally equalize you, I will do it with no regard to the time we spent together."

"Bit pretentious, don't you think?" she says, her eyes gleaming.

"You said it yourself…"

"Then I guess I'll have to train harder, then," she responds, slyly. "That way I can kick your ass into the ground without thinking about how much I want to ride you instead."

"Or be ridden?"

"I thought you'd have realized this by now: I _like _being on top. I guess I'll have to remind you…"

His face lights up.

"…but not tonight. I need to think about what we've said today. And I'm still mad at you."

His face falls again.

She suddenly sticks a finger into his prune tart and before he can stop her she's used the filling to draw a smile on his cheek. "Now I feel a bit better," she grins.

_And funnily enough, so do I._

* * *

He pays for the entire meal. Korra tries to contribute, but he refuses to let her and things get violent. "Nonsense! You're my niece! Let me treat you!" he says as the stunned server watches him struggle to keep Korra's yuan-filled hands away. Once the bill is paid, the pair walk out of the restaurant and get lost in the early evening crowds.

"I should head back to the island," says Korra suddenly. "You probably have Eq- um, work to do or something."

"I do."

"Well then…" She turns to leave, then hesitates. "I know this is going to sound completely stupid and crazy but…I don't know…you don't…you don't have any feelings for me, do you?"

"…don't be foolish. This is just politics and stress release for me."

"Good, because despite what I said about 'letting you in' and all that, this is just stress release for me. Fuck feelings and fuck politics," she responds with a smile. "Well, don't bother to write. I'll drop by when I'm ready."

But as Amon watches her walk away, he thinks about something that both excites and frightens him.

It was the look in her eyes.

_She was lying to me._

Which was just fine, because he'd been lying too.

* * *

**Author's note: **Remember, reviews and other feedback are always welcome!


	7. Cabbage

**_No Avatar ever completely masters all the elements of life. _**

* * *

"I'm hungry," said Korra as she rolled off of him.

"Then go fix yourself something, Avatar," he replied lazily, not wanting to move his tired body.

"Such a gentleman," she sniped as she headed towards the kitchen.

"Need I remind you that I let you ride me _three times_ in quick succession?" he challenged, admiring Korra's butt cheeks as she walked away. "To say nothing of the fact that this last round I made you come _four times_ before I allowed myself to finish? I think that qualifies me as a gentleman of the highest order."

"You had help for those middle orgasms," she rebutted. "And just so you know…" She turned her head to face him. "…a gentleman wouldn't stare at my naked ass."

"This gentleman has been deprived of its sight for the last two hours. Forgive me for wanting to refresh my memory."

Korra grinned. "Well, when you put it that way…" She made sure to take her time bending over to rummage through the icebox.

He closed his eyes, all voyeuristic urges now satisfied, and tried to collect his thoughts with the sounds of Korra's food search in his ears. She would eat, dress, and leave, and he could just keep pretending that he didn't want her to spend the night (which was an _incredibly _stupid idea). _Admit it old man. You like her. And you want to keep getting closer to her._

He heard the icebox door slide shut and then…nothing. No opening of drawers, no scraping of knives – just silence.

_Interesting, _he thought.

"Um…Amon?" came her voice.

He opened his eyes and sat up to see Korra clutching a jar of pickled cabbage, two lemons and the chicken cuts he'd purchased several days ago.

"This was all the edible-looking shit I could find in your icebox," she said, shrugging.

"Well make something of it then," he replied offhandedly, closing his eyes and laying back down again. "I think I've earned myself a little bit of rest."

"Um…err…"

He instantly recognized the hesitation in her voice. Before the Lieutenant had entered his life, he'd had a similar reaction to raw foodstuffs.

His eyes sprung open and he slid his legs over the side of the bed. "You don't know how to cook, do you Avatar?"

Korra flushed. "I know how to cook!" she said in an offended tone. "It's just that…well…_knowing_ how to cook and _actually_ cooking are two different things and...well…I never really mastered the 'actually' part."

"That bad?"

"Back at the South Pole, the White Lotus cooks banned me from the kitchen. The rare occasions my mother tried to teach me always ended in tears."

"Yours?"

"Hers."

"Wow…that's…" he stammered.

"Don't start," she warned him.

"No, it's just…" He chuckled. "I was the same, once."

"And what changed?"

He got up and joined her at the counter, not worrying about his nakedness (after all, _she_ hadn't been concerned about _hers_). "I met an excellent teacher," he said softly. "And now I get by," he added.

"Great story," began Korra, "but it really doesn't help put all this in my stomach." She patted her naked belly for emphasis.

"Of course not," he snorted, "which is why I'm going to teach you how to cook it."

* * *

He switched on the gas and Korra's arms immediately went for the burners. "What are you doing?" he asked as she lowered her hands over the stove.

"Lighting it."

"Not with bending." He opened a drawer and retrieved a match box. "Here."

She gave him a hard look. "_Really?_"

"I believe we have a 'no bending' policy in this room."

"Funny. You never seem to object whenever I bend your seed out of my-"

"That doesn't count and you know it."

"Doesn't it?" The infamous side-eye emerged. "You _do_ realize that without my waterbending there'd be a _much _higher chance that I'd get pregnant or every month you'd have to go a full week without sex, right?"

"I wouldn't mind a break now and then. You are a very…demanding partner."

"But really? You don't want to."

"…no."

"And you don't want kids."

"...no."

"Ah," she said with satisfaction. "So you _do_ acknowledge that bending has a place in the world." She smacked his ass and he squawked. "Gotcha, Amon."

"Now you have to wash your hands again, Avatar," he chided, shaking his head. A frowning Korra rinsed her hands in the sink, and he decided it was best that they pressed forward. "Countless generations of non-benders and non-firebenders have cooked their meals without the ability to produce flames from their body. I'm sure you can go forego your advantage for a single meal."

She sighed and threw up her hands. "Fine. Whatever. Doesn't mean I like it, though."

He watched her fumble with the matches until she finally managed to light one and used it to ignite the front two burners on the gas stove. "Well done, Avatar," he said proudly.

"Don't patronize me," she snapped.

"I was just giving you encouragement, nothing more."

"Well…try and make it sound less suspect next time."

"I'll do my best," he quipped, leaning down to raid his cupboards for a small pot, a large pan and a cutting board. "Now, Avatar," he said, handing her the pot, "fill this halfway with water and place it on one of the burners." As she filled the pot, he went over to another cabinet and retrieved spices and cooking oil. He poured some oil into the pan and let it heat up.

"What now?" asked Korra after placing the pot on the stove.

"You're going to prep the chicken." He unwrapped the brown paper protecting the meat and dumped the chicken onto the wooden board. He then handed her a knife. "Slice up the chicken into small pieces no larger than your thumb. We don't want to add too much – most of the flavor will come from the cabbage."

She opened the jar and sniffed. "Ugh!" she gasped, immediately shutting the lid again. "That smells…"

"Believe me, it tastes much better than it smells," he assured her as he halved the lemons.

"I guess I'll have to trust you on that one," she replied, giving the jar one last fearful look before taking the knife to the chicken.

"No no no – don't chop it," he said, stopping to correct her. He slid up behind Korra and felt her shiver as his skin touched hers. "Nice, even strokes." He slid his arm over hers and gently grasped her knife hand. "Push down firmly, then gently pull across – just like that," he finished, and a perfect cut of chicken fell away from the rest of the produce.

His free hand reflexively slid up and down her rib cage.

"You know, that's kind of distracting," she murmured.

"Oh?" _I didn't even realize…_ "Sor-"

"I didn't say stop now did I?" she added with a smile.

He stopped guiding her after the first few cuts, but was content to stay behind her and let both his hands spider their way across her ribs. Once the chicken was done, he had her season it with salt and pepper; then he had her bring the board over to the stove and dump the meat into the pan.

"Since we cut them small, they'll cook faster." The pan spit and sizzled, and Korra yelped as hot oil landed on her skin. "Perhaps cooking in the nude wasn't such a brilliant idea," he confessed.

"Next time we'll have to avoid frying things. Umm, I mean…" She blushed. "For our next cooking lesson, obviously. Not for cooking in the nude again. You know, because it's dangerous and…stuff."

_We are _definitely_ cooking in the nude again,_ he thought.

He grabbed the chopped lemons and squeezed them over the chicken, then threw the rinds into the pot of boiling water. "The chicken should only take five to seven minutes – just be sure to toss it every now and then. I'll take care of the cabbage."

He cracked open the cabbage jar and dumped a sizable portion into the boiling water, which he then seasoned with salt and pepper and a little dried ginger. He stirred the mixture vigorously for five minutes, watching as the water turned bright red from the spices and flavorings of the pickled vegetables.

"I think the chicken's done," said Korra, next to him.

"Throw the contents of the pan in – drippings too; we don't want to miss those."

He let the whole thing stir for another three minutes before he grabbed a spoon and had both of them taste. It was not his best pickling job, so the flavor was slightly lacking, but the chicken hid the deficiencies and Korra wouldn't have known the difference anyways (she was surprised by how much she liked the taste). He found two clean bowls and a second spoon, then doled out two portions of their soup – stew – _whatever_ it was – before they retreated to the comfort of the bed.

"What _is_ this dish called?" asked Korra as she raised her spoon to her lips.

"The pickled cabbage is called _kimchi_, although I don't remember the exact name for this specific dish."

"Still tastes delicious," she replied happily, then murmured her appreciation again, this time through a mouthful of cabbage.

He was about halfway through his meal when he noticed that Korra was staring oddly at him. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she responded thoughtfully. "It's just…I can see why they follow you. The Equalists, I mean. You have a…way...about you. I could feel it back in the kitchen while you were teaching me…it's…entrancing...even when you're on your 'down with bending' rants." Her face fell. "I wish I had that. Not the whole 'inciting violence against thousands' thing," she clarified hastily. "Just…the people thing. I always seem to rub people the wrong way. And the ones I _do_ get along with I always seem to hurt in some way. I don't know…" She glanced down at her stomach.

And in yet another move that surprised him, he tilted her head up and turned it till they were face to face. "You're young. You still have a great deal to learn. Yes, some have a natural talent for communication and relationships. Some don't. But you can learn. You can improve. And in time, you'll understand how to sway people to the causes you care about." He paused. "But for the record, Avatar, despite our disagreements…"

He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips.

"…you've made an unforgettable impression on me."

She looked stunned, but managed to fold it into a smile of thanks.

"Now finish your _kimchi_. I know you don't eat enough vegetables."

She rolled her eyes but snuggled closer him.

The bowl was emptied in short order.

* * *

**Author's note: **If there are any Koreans or _kimchi_ fans who think I've misrepresented the dish I'M SORRY I'VE NEVER HAD IT BEFORE I'M JUST GOING BY WHAT THE INTERNETS TOLD ME AND MY OWN INFERENCES SORRY.

Again, reviews and other feedback are always welcome!


	8. Onions

**_No Shrek jokes, please._**

* * *

She can still taste the onions from dinner on his lips – the flavor is sweet and smoky, but with just enough bitterness left to set a tingle in her mouth.

She feels Amon's hands ghost across her ribs, just itching to get at the skin underneath, and she smiles when they disappear underneath her shirt.

"Avatar," he whispers in her ear.

It hurts her, the word "Avatar." Hurts that after all this time – almost a year gone by (_has it really been that long?_) – he still can't bring himself to call her by her real name. And though he has long since ceased to wear the mask (that is, unless she _wants_ him to wear it), he has still not told her his real name. _Which is understandable_, she supposes. _He wants to remain safe. He wants to remain anonymous. And if I were in his shoes, would I trust the Avatar to keep such information a secret?_

And in truth, she doesn't know that she _would_ keep his identity a secret.

Still, the mistrust hurts her even more.

**_But you don't trust him either, _**comes the voice.

_I let him bed me, _she retorts.

**_So you trust him with your body, _**it snorts. **_And he "gets" you. Not to demean the significance of either one, mind you_**, it adds hastily. **_But you still don't _****trust ****_him. Not where it _****really ****_counts._**

And she doesn't really have a defense for that.

* * *

Amon's chest is bare by the time she finally wrestles him over to the bed and collapses atop the rumpled sheets, his upper garments having long since been disposed of during the intervening makeout. She helps him pull her shirt over her head, then slides her pants and pelt over her legs, leaving her in just her undergarments and armbands.

She holds Amon for a few minutes, taking in every one of his features under the dim glow of the electric lights.

She rubs his chin.

He gently strokes the underside of her breast.

She breathes gently onto his collarbone.

Amon leans in to kiss the hollow of her throat, and his lips travel lower and lower as his hands begin to unwind the cloth around her chest.

She wishes she could just go without her chest wrappings, but she is too well-endowed for such luxuries. _A bra would make this go much faster_ – she's almost certain that Asami would be more than happy to take her clothes shopping if she ever worked up the courage to ask. _But_ _to be honest, the idea of a bra…it just doesn't work for me._

And to be even _more_ honest with herself, she gets _quite a kick_ out of watching him unwrap her like this.

That is, until his fingers get wedged between two particularly tight bands.

"I seem to be stuck," sasses Amon.

"You would do that, wouldn't you?" she replies dryly.

She decides to help him after that – row after row after row. _So many layers_, she ponders. _Just like the onions. Just like our relationship._

_Just like him._

* * *

He runs kisses all along her chest, circling around the swell of her breast, under and over; her skin feels cool in the wake of his lips. Then…

The spark travels from the tip of her skin straight to the tiny ball of nerves between her legs; she can feel it swell and pulse every time Amon draws his tongue across her nipples – first one, then the other – gently pulling and nipping, and she enthusiastically clutches him to her chest.

_Mmm…my nipples feel nice. So do my breasts. Big. Round…like onions. Onions with layers. Like this man buried beneath many identities. Wait, why can't I stop thinking about this?_ questions Korra, trying to keep her focus on the heat of them moment, on enjoying the pleasure the two foes are sharing together.

But the itch just won't go away. And so she reflects.

* * *

**She remembers the Revelation, the first time she ever saw him in person – the night he depowered Lightning Bolt Zolt and delivered justice to an arguably deserving bunch of criminals. **

**That night, she met Amon the Champion, the savior for whom Republic City's nonbenders had been searching for ages. **

* * *

She slides off her smalls and feels the cool rush of air across her curls as Amon leans in to breathe in the musk from her loins; no matter how many times he smells her essence, the gesture never fails to make her blush. Then finally, _finally_ his tongue touches flesh, working up and down her slit; the tip rolls around and around her clit, pressing down at just the right points to elicit the most noise from her; then it pokes through the lips and teases and nudges the sweet flesh inside, the forceful yet caring movements a foreshadowing of greater things to come.

* * *

**She remembers their first real meeting, the ambush at Aang's memorial – she'd been so stupid and arrogant – she remembers the fear of being subdued by the chi-blockers, remembers the terror of seeing him up close for the first time **

**That night, she met Amon the Fearmaster, the man whose gaze could strip your soul bare. **

**So many things could've gone differently that night. He could've killed her. He could've stripped her of her bending. He could've forced her, left her sobbing and broken against the memorial floor – and yet, all he wanted to do was talk. **

**That night, she also met Amon the Politician – a man of great power, but surprising pragmatism. **

* * *

She presses her thighs against his head as tightly as she dares and grips the bedsheets on either side, bracing herself for the coming wave.

Amon's tongue has done its wicked work, and her patience is rewarded as the cascade of orgasm explodes in her groin before radiating out to the rest of her body.

She releases his head with a sigh of relief (and she swears that he gives one as well - she wasn't squeezing him _that _hard).

He licks his lips and slides back up her body to kiss her. The onions are still there, but now there is a new and quite familiar taste on top of it. As she kisses him, one of his long fingers slides inside her, making circles and massaging the inner muscles until she is in utter agony.

"Do it," she pleads in a strangled voice.

Amon pulls her in for a long kiss, and she relaxes as he spreads her legs apart and pulls down his trousers just enough to free his straining cock. With one hand stroking her inner thigh, he leans forward and slides inside of her. When his hips collide with hers, she lets out a groan of relief and satisfaction.

Together they move in-and-out, back-and-forth, yin-and-yang.

She feels her pleasure starting to take shape again.

* * *

**She doesn't know if he was a virgin before they met – she had never worked up the courage to ask him – but with his good looks and entrancing personality, she'd be surprised if he ****_was _****a virgin when they met. **

**She only wonders because of how good they've gotten at sex – ****_really_**** good. That's not to say that every night is perfect. There are slip-ups. Sometimes legs get tangled; tongues and fingers and toes end up in odd places; orgasms hover but never quite make their mark (for both of them). But while their lovemak- their ****_fucking_**** isn't always on target, he's been the perfect instructor. **

**And it's not just about sex - she thinks back to the ****_kimchi_**** lesson, and all the cooking lessons since then - he has a way of encouraging people, of making them acknowledge the potential inside of them - and to make them see when they're lying to themselves.**

**Amon the Sage. **

**And Amon the sex god.**

* * *

He stills for a moment, and she takes this as her cue to roll them over, and now she's sits on top of him, his manhood stretching to even greater depths inside her, and the dance begins once more.

She slides one hand downwards to touch herself, and uses the other to grip his shoulder for support. Amon keeps one hand on her breast, the thumb running over the nipple in slow, insistent circles; the other hand joins her own to coax mind-numbing pleasure from her nub as cock and cunt beat out a steady rhythm towards their release.

The burning grows and grows and the sensation becomes so powerful that it forces her eyes open.

She looks down and sees Amon staring intently up at her.

The look of caring and tenderness in his eyes shakes her to her core.

**This is an Amon she's never seen before. **

**This is something new.**

**And it ****_terrifies_**** her.**

The fire withers and dies.

* * *

Amon freezes beneath her and she feels the warmth of his release inside her body; she feigns her own pleasure but he sees straight through her gambit. They've coupled too often now for her to deceive him – at least like this.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks, concerned. "Did I not pleasure you for long enough before we began? I-"

She knows how he prides himself on leaving her drained and sated after their sex romps – as if his ego wasn't already straining his skull. "No, it was nothing you did," she says, feeling exasperated. "I just…sometimes it doesn't happen."

"I know that, but…" his voice falters. "Do you want me to use my tong-"

"It's _fine_," she says, laying down on top of him. "And _ew_," she adds, making a face. "You just came in there."

"Didn't stop me from kissing you on the mouth that one time."

"One time. The _only_ time you've let me do that to you, I might add. And I had swallowed most of it, remember?"

"Avatar…"

"I just-" she sighs. "Look…just…hold me, okay? And don't think I'm getting soft on you," she snaps. "Although _you_ have gone soft _in_ me," she finishes slyly, using her walls to wiggle the softened flesh still resting inside her.

"It does that," he quips. "Give me ten minutes though, and..."

"No, I think I'm done for the night. Just..."

"I heard you the first time, Avatar." Amon wraps his arms across her back, resting one hand against the small thereof and gently stroking the top of her ass cheek with the other.

They lie there for a good twenty minutes before Korra finally works up the necessary courage.

"Amon," she begins hesitantly, "…what do you think of me?"

He looks into her eyes, his expression unreadable. "I'll answer you if you tell me this: what do you think of _me_, Avatar?" he responds softly.

A dozen different answers swirled in her head, each one containing a complicated mixture of memory, truth, fear, and uncertainty.

But fear wins the day.

"I think you have onion breath," she answers quietly, and stands up to dress herself.

* * *

**Author's note:** I was not happy with this chapter when I first wrote it, and even now it still kind of bugs me. But no story is completely perfect. You learn from it and move on.

This is also the first chapter that is told from Korra's point of view. It was refreshing to write (and in many ways necessary), and I decided to write more Korra chapters as things progressed.


	9. Chili Pepper

_Disclaimer_: I know jack shit about geography in the Avatar world. Take all the traveling stuff with a giant grain of salt.

_**I'mma let that shit burn.**_

* * *

He was preparing for a trip to Ba Sing Se when there was a knock on the door. He opened it to find a rather stiff-looking Lieutenant, a surprising look of concern on the man's face. "Is something wrong, Lieu?"

"You might say that," replied his second-in-command noncommittally. "May I come in, sir?"

"Of course," replied Amon, stepping aside to let the other man in. "Chair?" he said, pointing to the table.

"No, I…this'll only take a few minutes – I hope. After all, you're supposed to leave soon."

"I should've been there weeks ago," grumbled Amon in response.

"Well, you've been…distracted…by other things, sir," came Lieu's guarded reply.

Amon tensed, but tried not to let it show. "Running the Equalist movement often consumes more of my time than I fores-"

"I know about you and the Avatar, sir," said the Lieutenant, cutting him off.

"I don't kno-"

"Please, Amon, don't lie to me. You've done plenty enough of that already."

_And there is still yet more that you don't know, _thought Amon. "Who else knows?"

"No one. I decided that discretion was the wisest course, despite my instincts telling me otherwise."

"Instincts…or jealousy?"

The Lieutenant's face colored. "Fine. You're right once again. It hurts, knowing that you found someone else." His eyes narrowed. "But it doesn't mean that what you're doing isn't wrong or dangerous. She's the _enemy_, Amon."

"And what better way to take down an enemy than by pretending to be her friend," he replied.

"So you're just using her, then? Wrapping her around your thumb and then discarding her when it suits you?"

"Yes," he replied defiantly.

The Lieutenant's eyes flickered. "Well it's oddly comforting to know that you treat all your bedmates with equal disdain."

"Lieu," he began, but the other man held up a hand.

"With all due respect, sir, please shut it." He cringed when Amon glared at him. Lieu sighed in frustration. "Look…what happened between us…there's no changing that. That…closeness…it was bad. Getting close with the Avatar is an even graver mistake – and you two _are_ getting close," he said, preemptively stopping his boss' attempt to counter. "Just don't forget who and what she is, because I…because _we_ can't afford to have your loyalties divided. We just can't." His eyes darkened. "You may have given birth to the Equalists and encouraged the group's development over these many years, but no single person is more important than the movement itself – not even you."

"…is that a threat Lieutenant?" he replied, quietly.

"Merely a promise that while my…devotion…is mostly to you, I will always do what's best for the Equalist movement. Even if that means coming to blows with you."

"I seem to recall you came to blows _from_ me," purred Amon.

Lieu turned bright red, sharply whipped around and headed for the door. "Just keep your emotions in check, sir. Or better yet, just end it altogether. Otherwise you'll put everything we've worked for at risk – and I won't let you jeopardize the freedom of thousands over some-"

"There are a number of words and phrases that you could finish that sentence with, and you would most certainly regret all of them," he growled menacingly. "And as for my…business…with the Avatar," he added with cold eyes, "I will take your concerns under advisement. Now leave. You try my patience."

"Sir," answered the Lieutenant, who gave his boss a small bow and walked out the door, closing it on his way out.

Once the Lieutenant had left, Amon removed his mask and stared at it, his eyes tracing over the gold lines and the shape of the eye slits.

_Noatak, what _are _you going to do?_

* * *

The telegram arrived in the middle of the night.

He was pulled back to consciousness by the local Equalist supervisor pounding on his guest room door. Bleary-eyed and struck by a sudden need to piss, he took the missive from the concerned-looking woman and managed to read through the thing whilst he relieved himself.

_Avatar missing. Kidnapped by Tarrlok. Councilman a bloodbender. Lost their satomobile in pursuit. Please advise._

His fatigue was instantly set aside. _I've been counting on my fool brother to do something rash, and now he has. But it just _had _to involve Korra, didn't it?_

**_Look on the bright side. You can deal with two enemies in one fell swoop._**

_Korra's not my enemy._

**_That's funny. I thought she was._**

_It's…complicated. We're complicated._

**_Obviously you weren't listening to Lieu's speech._**

_The bastard was just jealous and hurt._

**_After you strung him along like you did? I'd say he has a right to be jealous and hurt._**

_That…was complicated too._

**_That seems to be your running excuse these days. But you know your choice is simple. You're either going to let Korra go…or you do what's right for the Equalist movement and all that it represents._**

_It's not that simple!_

**_Then simplify it, Noatak. And simplify it quickly._**

* * *

He found Madam Hi waiting for him in the conference room. "Madam Hi, I need to return to Republic City with all haste."

She gave him a small bow. "Certainly, Master Amon, but even our fastest satomobile will take you at least two days to reach Republic City."

"Too long," he replied with a grimace. "Tarrlok will have spirited the Avatar away by that time." He grabbed a nearby leaf of paper. "Do you have-" A pen had magically appeared in Madam Hi's outstretched hand. "Ah, thank you." He hastily scribbled something on the sheet. "Have your wire operator send this to Republic City with all haste. And get Hiroshi Sato on the telephone. I think it's time we tested these new airplanes he's been developing up here."

* * *

"So…how _exactly _did you find out about this little hidey hole of Councilman Tarrlok's?" asked Lieu as he guided the van sped along the mountain roads.

Amon's eyes twitched beneath the mask. "I have my sources. Let's just leave it at that." _  
_"More secrets, I see," was the terse reply. "Figures."

"This isn't the time or the place, Lieutenant." He jerked his head towards the back of the van.

"Fine."

They drove in silence for several miles.

"I have something for you," said the Lieutenant, suddenly. "From the underground gardens." He took one hand off the wheel and reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a small blob of white cloth. "I thought they wouldn't come in for another few months, but it seems they were eager to make themselves known." He handed the cloth to Amon.

The man in the passenger seat unwrapped the package to find three bright red peppers.

"I figured you might like them. For your culinary explorations, I mean. It's nice to know that something good came out of…well, you know."

"I…thank you, Lieu," he stated softly. **_  
_**"Just be careful, sir. They look harmless enough, but those bastards burn like nothing else. If you don't handle it carefully, you could end up hurting yourself."

_I can see that someone is not in the mood for subtlety_, he thought dryly. "Thank you, Lieu. I appreciate the gift…and the advice that came with it."

"Only looking out for your health and safety, sir," answered the Lieutenant carefully.

They did not speak for the rest of the trip.

* * *

They parked the van some 50 feet away from Tarrlok's cabin, and the Lieutenant's hand-picked squad clambered out of the back then assembled in formation just outside the door.

"You know this already, but stealth and speed are of the upmost importance. Councilman Tarrlok is an extremely dangerous waterbender, and now we know his bloodbending abilities can be used outside of the full moon. Lieutenant?"

The moustached man nodded to the Equalist on the left end, who stepped out of line and peeked into the cabin. "It's secure," was the reply.

"All right, we move in," he said. "I'll take point; if he somehow evades my attacks, use all necessary force to subdue the councilman."

"And the Avatar?" added the Lieutenant.

"Tarrlok is the priority," was his terse reply.

He moved towards the door and opened it; he gave a small sigh of relief when it didn't creak, and he waved his hand, signaling the rest of the troops to fall in line behind him.

As he entered the sparse room, he noticed stairs leading down into the basement (as his father had described so long ago) and he began to hear voices.

"…ined everything!"

"Tarrlok, the jig is up and you have nowhere to go."

"Oh no. No I'll escape and start a new life. And _you_ are coming as my hostage."

His heart twisted in anger.

"You'll never get away with this!" came her desperate cry.

His heart twisted in fear.

And then he heard the ascending steps.

_Oh, shit._

The hit squad scrambled into combat positions just as his brother emerged at the top of the stairs.

"Amon!" Tarrlok gasped in horror.

_Noatak, actually, but you'll probably figure that out soon enough._

"It is time for you to be equalized," he answered in his most menacing voice possible.

"You fool!" said Tarrlok, raising his hands. "You've never faced bending like mine!"

_But you have, brother, _thought Amon, suddenly seized with regret and sadness._ Father made us do it. And now I'm doing it to you again. _He steeled himself. _But it's different now. You've become a monster. This is for your own good…for the good of everyone…_

Tarrlok raised his hands and the Equalist squad dropped to the floor.

But he was prepared for this, and (painfully) bloodbent his own body in order to stay on his feet.

Tarrlok grimaced and pressed harder.

He almost fell under this new assault, but he made the necessary adjustments and managed to press on. And then suddenly the weight of Tarrlok's bending was lifted as his stunned brother lowered his arms in defeat.

"What…what are you?!"

_Your brother...a lost friend…your savior, Tarrlok._

"I am the solution."

* * *

He was hoisting the unconscious Tarrlok over his shoulder when his team finally recovered from their bloodbending experience.

"I'll take care of him. You four retrieve the Avatar."

The Lieutenant gave him a look. "And what are we to do with her, sir?"

Amon glared at him, but Lieu stood his ground. _I warned you this would happen. Don't fail us,_ his eyes said.

"Do not underestimate her." He paused. "Electrocute the box to knock her out before you open it." He prayed his voice would carry just enough for her to hear his orders, and he prayed that she would somehow forgive him.

"My pleasure," answered the Lieutenant with no small amount of relish as he and his squad headed downstairs.

Amon carried his brother outside to the van and hoped with all his might.

He had just finished putting Tarrlok in the car when the cabin door burst open and Korra stumbled outside.

Their eyes met, and he saw the terror blazing in her eyes.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the Avatar launched a flurry of icicles at him and took off towards the treeline.

"Avatar!" he yelled, starting after her.

She kept running.

"Avatar, wait!" but she had disappeared into the woods.

As he stood by the edge of the tree line, he heard the cabin door burst open again and the squad clambered out, taking up position just behind him.

"I _told_ you not to underestimate her," he said, trying to disguise his satisfaction. He pointed at the van. "Take the councilman back to base. I will go search for the Avatar."

"Is that wise, sir?" said the Lieutenant.

"Bender or not, these mountains are cold and dangerous. If she injures herself and dies out here that does nothing to help us. She must be publicly subjugated to be of any use to the Equalists."

"But you'll be out here al-"

"_Do as you're told, Lieutenant_!" he snapped. "I'll make my own way back if the search proves fruitless."

"As you wish, sir," came the Lieutenant's terse reply; he then waved to the squad and they headed towards the waiting truck.

Amon slid down the slope until he was sure no one could see or hear him.

Then he bent an ice sled underneath his feet and continued downwards.

* * *

It only took him a few minutes of searching to find Korra. She lay next to a tree, her body completely still, and a sizeable gash streaked across her forehead; a thin line of blood dripped from it down the side of her face.

He knelt down beside her.

"Avatar…Avatar, wake up, you have to wake up," he said, taking her by the shoulders and gently shaking her.

No response.

He turned his head and hovered his ear over mouth. _She still breathes._

"Avatar, _please_ wake up."

Still nothing.

Then he remembered the Lieutenant's gift.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the white bundle from his pocket and extracted a single red pepper. He crushed the fruit in his hand and immediately regretted it as the juices began to burn the skin of his palm.

_What the hell did you give me, Lieu?_ he thought, gritting his teeth in agony.

He held his palm underneath Korra's nose, taking care not to spill any of the pepper juice on her (despite the ever growing pain in his hand).

Korra bolted upright seven seconds later and began coughing profusely. Amon's hand and the pepper were knocked aside but fortunately none of the juice landed on the Avatar. When Korra saw the masked man in front of her, her eyes bulged with fright and she rolled over to try and scramble away.

He caught her around the waist. "Avatar, it's all right, I'm not trying to-"

"Get off me! Get. Off. Me!"

"Avatar, calm yourself! I am _not_ going to hu-"

He barely heard the growl before a mass of white fur barreled into him, sending him rolling for a good ten feet. Before he could fully process what had happened, a furious polar bear dog had its teeth at his throat.

"Ah…Naga, I presume?" he quipped and almost instantly gave himself a mental slap for even attempting levity at a time like this.

_She's going to rip my throat out now, I'm almost sure of it._

The animal in question opened its jaw to oblige him, but then he heard Korra shout "Naga! Heel!" The beast's mouth closed and after giving a baleful look to him trotted over to its master's side.

He shakily got to his feet and was glad to see that Korra had done the same. "Avatar, are you-"

"Don't," she snapped, her voice wavering. "Please, not right now."

"I had to give the order, it wouldn-"

"_Amon._" She cried out and clutched her abdomen and her leg.

He moved towards her but was stopped by Naga's determined growling.

"Naga, _stop it_. Now's not the time," she pleaded.

He finished the journey to her side. "Are you alright? Did…did he…"

"No," said Korra, shuddering. "Though if you hadn't shown up," she gave a harsh laugh. "Oh, fuck, the irony. Rescued from a life of captivity, probable rape and servitude by your amorous archenemy. If my friends could see me now…"

"But are you sure you'll be fine?"

"It's nothing, it's just-" She gave him a guarded look. "Food and rest and some waterbending will take care of most of my problems." She nodded towards her pet. "Help me onto Naga."

He _swore_ the polar bear dog glared at him the entire time he was helping Korra onto her saddle. "Take it easy on her, Naga," he commanded. The dog growled at him but Korra sushed her and the beast fell silent.

"No ride for a lonely traveler?" he joked weakly. Korra's eyes flickered uncertainly before he raised his hand and said. "It was a poor jest, Avatar. I understand if you'd rather not enjoy my further company this evening. I can make my own way back, and frankly I think the Lieutenant deserves the panic attack I'm about to give him. Though…please…do feel free to call on me when you're recovered. I'll be waiting for you," he finished softly.

She gave him the barest of nods before patting Naga's head and saying "let's go girl;" he watched as woman and beast disappeared into the haze of falling snow.

* * *

Once he thought Korra was safely out of range, he bent the snow into an igloo, a structure he had neither built nor entered for many years now. He sat in the dark and pondered the simultaneously triumphant yet disastrous set of events that had just occurred.

He retrieved the pepper pouch, picked out a second fruit and placed it in his hand; he contemplated the spicy object and the words that the Lieutenant had said to him earlier:  
_"Just don't forget who and what she is, because we can't afford to have your loyalties divided."_

_"If you don't handle it carefully, you could end up hurting yourself."_

He popped the pepper in his mouth and chewed it as hard as he could.

He stayed in the igloo until the burning sensation in his mouth and chest completely faded away.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

- Botanically speaking, the pepper _is_ technically a fruit even though we don't really treat it as such.

- I did not think of the "eating the pepper whole" scene until I was maybe 2/3 of the way through writing the chapter. Sometimes, I _do _enjoy my sadistic, angsty writing tendencies.

- If you've ever been curious about the whole "what if Tarrlok _had _kidnapped Korra" and you haven't heard of or read "Strings"...you need to find and read "Strings" (it's by lantur here on ). It is a fantastically written, morally complex and nuanced look at how something like that might turn out. TBH, it was the fic that made me a Korrlok shipper. And even if you aren't a Korrlok fan, I still think you'll find it a great read.


	10. Cake

**_Let th– nope, too easy. Too easy._**

* * *

There had been a cold snap earlier in the week, and the citizens of Republic City were bundled up as best as they possibly could. The falling temperatures, however, did not deter the swarms of people who regularly flocked to the park. The air was filled with the screams of young children and the concerned shouts of parents ordering their progency to keep their winter hats on their heads. While the carriage rides were fully operational, the cool weather deterred many from venturing out onto the park's lakes.

For two people, however, the freeze provided the perfect opportunity to have a public conversation with the utmost privacy. After all, who would think to follow two crazy idiots out onto freezing cold water?

* * *

She was gonna wretch. She was sure of it.

She nervously cast her eyes about for her…whoever the hell he was…for Amon.

All this stress was doing nothing to help her. She tried to remember what she and Tenzin had discussed during their last airbending lesson.

_Deep breaths, Korra, _she thought as she sucked down a mouthful of air._ You can do this. You _can_ do this. Remember, it's what's best for everyone involved._

She fidgeted with the fringe of her jacket: she had kept Naga's sheddings in a jar for many years; when Senna made the jacket for Korra's sixteenth birthday, the jar mysteriously disappeared from the White Lotus compound and the hairs magically found themselves on the jacket.

And now she was thinking about her parents. And her parents finding out that their daughter was sleeping with the enemy. _What would they think of…this? What would they think of me?_

Her body felt hot with shame.

Actually, she just felt hot in general. Too hot. But she couldn't take the jacket off.

It was winter after all.

_Oh, shit._

She barely made it to a nearby tree before breakfast erupted from her throat.

_It has to end here. For both our sakes. We can't keep going in treading the same paths, backwards and forwards and backwards again. I can't trust him, and he can't trust me, and he has too much power...or I give him too much power...I know that we said we'd ride this boat until war arose but-  
_

**_But you like this, _**came the dark voice from within. **_You like _him._ He understands you like no one else, and though neither of you will admit it you understand _him_ too. You like his wisdom and his bluntness, and the way he delivers it to you – the resonance of his voice both terrifies and delights you. You love the smoothness of his lips, the roughness of his fingers. You enjoy the struggle and revel in the power it gives you – the power you take from each other. You like way he feels inside you. You like the _wrongness_ of it. It taints the both of you and yet neither one would give up the wondrous passion it gives you…_**

She dry heaved again but thankfully nothing came out this time.

_You're wrong, _she said weakly. _I can end this. I _will _end this._

* * *

She found Amon surprisingly easy to spot – for one, he was wearing the same clothes he'd worn to their date at Narook's Noodles; two, he was fidgeting rather aggressively. She drew her hood up over her face and prayed that no one would recognize her.

A gaggle of children raced past. Amon smiled and she couldn't help but smile back, despite the maelstrom of emotions that were tearing at her soul.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid..._

"Hello Avatar." He glanced at the throngs spread about the grass. "I must admit I was…surprised that you requested we meet in such an open area."

"We'll be fine once we're out on the lake," she replied hastily.

"I would think two people alone on the lake in cold weather would be of interest to more than a few people…"

"Not if they're Water Tribe." She cringed. "Well, one of them anyway."

Amon's eyebrow twitched for the briefest of moments, and his eyes betrayed a flash of annoyance before settling back into their inviting blue tone. "Well, shall we, Avatar?"

"What?" "Oh, y-yeah…" she stammered. "Let's go out on the water."

They walked down to the edge of the lake and untied one of empty boats, after which they both clambered inside the vessel. She raised her arms to waterbend the boat away from the shore when Amon grabbed her hands.

She froze instantly.

"Avatar…there's no need to be so tense," he said, puzzled. "And perhaps you should refrain from using your bending, Avatar or not. Regardless of our conversations being private, venturing out onto the lake _is _going to draw curious eyes, so we should avoid any action that would give them more reason to keep their gaze upon us."

"Whatever you say," she replied, unable to hold eye contact with him.

Amon took the lion's share of the rowing duties, though when they were about halfway to their destination she grabbed the second pair of oars and joined in; Amon smiled at her, and she barely kept her composure as her insides roiled in guilt, fear and agony.

_Remember your firebending breathing exercises, Korra. Focus. Control. Concentration. Stability. _

They were finally in the middle of the lake. Sure, it was a conspicuous position, but as long as they talked softly enough no one would hear them. And the circle of visibility ensured that no one could sneak up unnoticed.

"Well, here we are, Avatar," said Amon awkwardly. "As I said earlier, I found your idea of a lake-bound meeting rather…"

_Please don't say romantic._

"…uncharacteristic of you."

_Thank the spirits._

"I would've assumed you'd want to meet someplace noisy and busy," he finished.

"We're in the middle of a park."

"We're in the middle of a park lake," he corrected, "which while surrounded by noise is actually quite still for once. The perfect spot from which to conduct business, if I may be so bold. But since we _are_ at a park…"

He reached into his jacket and removed a faded brown blanket which he then spread on the floor of the boat.

"While your message indicated that this was to be a more serious meeting, I took the liberty of preparing us some lunch." He flushed. "To be honest, it's more of a light snack. I've been feeling under the weather and more substantive foods have not agreed well with my stomach."

_I know the feeling, _she thought in silent agreement.

Amon reached into his pocket and retrieved a small cloth-bound bundle, which he handed to her, anticipation lighting up his face.

She opened the package to find three brown cakes.

"I made them myself," he said brightly. "Admittedly I've never baked before and as a result the yield was very small." He grinned sheepishly. "I haven't even bothered to taste them." He instinctively threw up his hands in defense. "I _swear_ to you that they aren't poisoned."

_Yeah, poisoning me now would certainly ruin your plans to trump the conquered Avatar before a beaten Republic City, _she thought sarcastically as she bit into the gift.

The cakes were soft and airy; as her tongue touched something damp inside, the familiar sweetness of bean paste flooded her mouth.

"It's not spectacular, I know, but it was all that I could spare from the Equalist storerooms."

"I see someone's not getting out much," she said bitingly.

"That's not liable to improve any time soon," Amon retorted, his eyes narrowing. "Between this fever outbreak and the overzealous antics of Chief Beifong-"

"You did kidnap Tarrlok," she countered.

"Don't tell me you're actually disappointed that I took him away."

"Why shouldn't I be?" she snapped.

"For one thing, Avatar, the fool was using bloodbending to control you. Had I not arrived when I did, Tarrlok would've taken you who knows where and used you for – for who knows what."

"Like you wouldn't have done the same thing," she spat.

"What did you expect me to do?" he snarled. "Just let my mortal enemy, the Avatar, go, when she was at her most vulnerable moment since Memorial Island? At a time when the Equalists' plans were coming to a head?" He snorted. "You are admittedly a teenager, but there are times when your naivety, lack of logic and general stupidity _astound_ me, Avatar."

The water appeared around her hands without any conscious thought. A circle of foam and spray erupted some ten feet outside of the boat.

"Then I have nothing more to sa-"

The cake.

The cake was in her throat.

But she had swallowed it all. Where was-

And now all the sweetness was turning acrid; the pleasing notes turning bitter and sour and tearing at her mouth and _she couldn't breathe_.

"Korra?!" said a concerned Amon, except Tenzin's face now graced the figure kneeling before her in the rocking boat.

The cake grew thicker, harder in her throat. She clutched her neck, trying to force her airway open.

"Korra, you have to breath!" said Amon, only this time he had Tenzin's voice.

She feebly opened her mouth, but the resurgent cakes prevented all noise from escaping her lips.

"I think she's having a reaction!" said Pema's voice from Tenzin's face on Amon's body.

And then the bottom of the boat split in half, and she fell out into the water below, but it was dry and dark and so _hot_, and the darkness felt like a thousand owl feathers pressed against her skin, and Tenzin was _still _shouting from _somewhere_.

Then suddenly the water was wet and freezing and the cake plug vanished to let a torrent of liquid fill her mouth from both directions.

* * *

She bolts upright and empties the contents of her stomach onto the floor, and is only dimly aware of the fact that she's _not_ in the park telling her mortal enemy (that she's **sleeping with**) that she's cutting short their relationship and he can suck on their promise to see things to the bitter end; instead she is naked in her bed on Air Temple Island and spirits she is _burning_ and it _hurts_.

She throws up again.

"Quick, get the healer back up here right now!" shouts Pema.

She can feel the temple matron press a cold compress to her forehead and it does nothing to help her.

She wants to keep her eyes open; she wants to stay awake and stay strong, but the soft, velvet oblivion of unconsciousness feels too good and the Avatar drifts back into her heated nightmares.

* * *

**Author's note: **The next chapter is dark, much darker than I had originally planned. But such is the evolution of writing.


	11. Chicken Soup

**_Water, water, everywhere._**

**WARNING: Contains implied noncon.**

* * *

The fever dream is both the most horrifying and the most delicious thing that has ever run through his mind.

_Republic City burns around him. Not that he can see it, or even wants to see it. He doesn't care. That doesn't interest him._

_What interests him is _her. _His captive prize. His trophy._

_His slave._

_Korra kneels naked and freezing and frightened atop the table. She's blind in every sense of the word: the black cloth over her eyes obscures the world from view, and her spirit can no longer hear the sweet songs of the elements – he's taken that from her._

_But she is not yet broken, even after all this._

_To be fair, he'd never really tried before – to break her. Not _really.

_True, he'd tried to undermine her. Unsettle her. Make the ground shift beneath her feet, shake her confidence in her godlike strength and abilities, make her question her moral certitude._

_ But never _break_ her. It wasn't time._

_But now the hour had come._

_Many had advocated for the Avatar's judgment to be conducted in public, in the daylight. To be humiliated and subjugated for all of Republic City to see. But he wouldn't do that to her._

_Not that she would appreciate what he was about to do to her. _Far _from it._

_He briefly glances around at the figures surrounding the table and forcefully holding the Avatar down. There are four others in the room with him – two men, one woman, and the ever faithful Lieutenant – all of whom had lost homes, family, loved ones and livelihoods to the malicious actions of the bending elite. Amon had handpicked them to attend this…_occasion. _They all deserved a shot at retribution...or at the very least, to bear witness to it.  
_

_But now he turns his gaze back to Korra. The sweat on her back glistens despite the poor lighting. _

_It is a beautiful and powerfully erotic moment._

_His arm reaches out; his fingers barely touch the tip of her chin. Korra shudders violently._

**_"Your city is mine."_**

_The cold voice emanating from behind the mask seems so unlike his own._

**_"Your bending is mine."_**

_He slides the hand downwards to stroke her neck._

**_"And now, Avatar…you are mine as well."_**

Sometimes he gets lucky. Sometimes the dream dissolves into specks of black and white, and that font of base emotions gives way to brief but welcome respites of delirious consciousness.

Most of the time, the dream continues on.

And he **enjoys** it.

* * *

This time, when he opens his eyes, they stay open.

Everything **hurts**.

Someone is clutching his arm; he turns to see the Lieutenant kneeling beside the bed.

"Oh, thank the spirits," gasps Lieu. "I thought I'd – we'd lost you."

His actions in the dream world still run fresh in his mind. "Basin," he gurgles. "Now."

The Lieutenant grabs for the bowl at Amon's waist but it's too late. He leans out of the bed to spew blood, bile and _spirits knows what_ onto the stone floor.

He sees a glass of water on his bedside table and reaches for it, but his arms can't muster the strength. The Lieutenant immediately admonishes him for trying and tenderly feeds the water into his mouth, one tiny sip at a time.

"Go back to sleep," says Lieu softly.

"I need to kn-"

"Sleep." Lieu's lips purse. "One hour, then I'll come wake you up. I'll bring you some chicken soup," he adds kindly. "Good stuff."

"That would be much appreciated," he whispers.

As he drifts off to sleep, he feels the Lieutenant's lips briefly touch his own. And despite all that had passed between them, he can't help but smile.

_What a softie._

* * *

He knows from experience that the Lieutenant's cooking is stellar, but this chicken soup might be the best fucking thing he's tasted in his entire life.

_Of course, feeling deathly ill has the potential to make one more appreciative of the little pleasures in life._

"Alright Lieu, I've eaten. Give me the bad news."

The Lieutenant grimaces. "The fever did not bode well for us sir. Thirty have died so far, six of them mech operators and four of them pilots. Some hundred plus remain ill."

_Perfect. Just perfect._ "And how far back will this set us?"

Lieu snorts. "If we're lucky, a month. It'll probably be closer to three."

"Well, maybe some good will come out of this."

The Lieutenant gives him a sharp look that reads _"you just mean that it'll give you more time with your girlfriend before you have to kill her."_

He decides to change the subject. "And you? How have you been holding up in all of this?"

"You know me sir," Lieu answers with a grin. "I'm a stubborn bastard. I told the damn thing not to bother me and it wisely chose to stay away."

"What of our enemies?"

"Most of the city's afflicted are non-benders and there are confirmed reports that both doctors and waterbending healers, whether by choice or coercion, have been prioritizing sick benders over non-benders. So our enemy's casualties remain few."

He closes his eyes in frustration. _Even when so many suffer, those people still find ways to oppress us._ "And what of the Avatar?"

Lieu doesn't even bother to hide his smirk. "It seems that the Avatar is gravely ill. Councilman Tenzin's brought in the finest healers and physicians from across the city and nothing they've done has improved her condition. By all accounts she is not expected to survive." Lieu pauses for a moment, the smile disappearing from his face. "I know this is not how you planned for things to happen, but perhaps it's for the best."

"And what if it's not?" he retorts.

"Sir, she is the _enemy_. For our cause to succeed, she must fall. It's not a public execution or stripping of her power, but a dead Avatar is still a dead Avatar."

"Yes…I suppose," he concedes, unconvincingly.

"I'm glad we have an understanding. I'll leave you to your rest, sir. Enjoy the soup," he adds offhandedly. "And don't…_exert_…yourself," he warns, his voice carrying an edge that shows he _clearly _knows what his boss is going to do and hoping that a stern lecture will talk him out of it.

The Lieutenant walks out the door, and Amon is left alone.

He lies back down and tries his hardest to talk himself out of the incredibly _stupid _thing he's about to do.

* * *

The cold waters of Republic City Bay would be a relief if they weren't sapping his already lax strength.

_This was an incredibly stupid idea._

Fortunately, the obvious abundance of his native element meant that even the smallest bending motions carry great weight, so he glides under the surface with surprising ease. Still, he only dares to bend an air bubble around his head. No need to overexert himself.

As his head breaks the water next to Air Temple Island, the white sliver of the crescent moon is just enough to reveal the poorly organized formation of White Lotus guards around the island's perimeter.

_Even with the city on the brink of war these fools arrange themselves in easily subverted positions. Perhaps Korra's tales of their incompetence aren't exaggerations after all._

He hoists himself out of the water, bends his clothing dry and carefully wanders around the rocks, watching and listening until he hears concerned voices coming from a lit window above him.

"Can nothing more be done?" comes the voice of Councilman Tenzin.

"Unfortunately no."

_Must be the doctor._

"Maybe what we're giving her is being magically transferred to someone else instead?"

He smirks. _Non bender._

"Don't be flippant with us!"

_Ah – must be Pema._

"She's the Avatar and our charge. You have to do something!" demands Pema.

"The Avatar is not my only patient," comes the sharp reply, "and Avatar or not she is only one of dozens, hundreds who need my attention. I know you benders like to pretend you're all gods, but this mere mortal can only do so much. Like I said, everything we're doing is having no effect. I noticed that your precious waterbenders haven't been able to work their miracles either-"

"You ungracious, arrogant bit-"

"Pema!" shouts Tenzin. "Doctor Sang," he begins curtly, "I believe you've done quite enough for this evening. The guards will show you out now."

He hears retreating footsteps…then approaching ones. He has to scramble behind an oddly convenient rock and quietly scuttle about as a White Lotus sentry approaches. Fortunately, he is still able to hear the rest of the conversation.

"For what little my opinion is worth to you people…I hope she lives. I hate to see anyone that young die, no matter how spoiled or privileged they might be.

More retreating footsteps. Then a cry that chills him.

Never before has Korra ever sounded so weak.

"Pema, we should go."

"But Tenzin, I can't just-"

"All we can do now is wait and hope. Besides, you're pregnant and I don't want you or the baby coming to any harm."

A reluctant sigh. "You're right. Fine. Let's go."

He hears a kiss, then more receding footsteps, and the light in the window fades away.

_Finally_, he thinks with equal parts irritation and panic. _I was almost certain the guard would come around again._

He touches the wall for half a second before realizing that he's in no condition to scale the wall by hand. He summons a water spiral and hopes that anyone who hears it will assume that it's merely the island's surf picking up.

Once he reaches the window sill he slices open the lock (and prays that Korra can explain it away once she's better). Korra's winter rug is still on the floor, so he dries his boots on it (hoping the wet patches go unnoticed).

As he approaches the bed and sees the extent of her illness, his belly coils in painful knots.

Her beautiful dark skin is pale, as if she'd spent a decade in the shadows just like him. He presses a hand to her forehead, and its searing warmth troubles him.

"Avatar," he murmurs.

Korra groans and twists under the covers, and her movements twist the blanket to expose her bare shoulders and the slope of her back; he realizes that she is completely naked underneath.

**_Not how you usually picture the Avatar naked and at your mercy, is it?_**

_Shut up_, he growls. And for once, the debate ends before it truly begin.

"Avatar, please, wake up," he pleads.

Korra's eyes snap open, and her pupils dilate with fear when she realizes that this is **not** a dream and that he really **is** in the room with her.

She opens her mouth to yell for help, but a half-hearted yelp is all she can muster.

"Avatar," he begins, but she doesn't hear him. She sits up and grabs his arms with a surprising amount of force.

"_Please," _she begs in a hoarse whisper. "Please don't-"

"I'm not here to hurt you, _I swear_. Only to help."

Her eyes frantically dart to the door. At first he thinks she's concerned about him getting caught, but then realizes she's thinking about Tenzin, his wife, their three runts and the little bastard on the way. He turns back to her and nods.

"I swear that I will not harm Tenzin or his family. I'm afraid I don't quite have the strength to deal with them. Another time perhaps," he quips.

Too sick to give her thanks or stare him down for his threat of future violence, Korra merely lies back down on the bed.

He removes his mask and everything else from the waist up, and slides onto the bed behind Korra, gently lifting her into an upright position and resting her back against his chest.

He looks down at his belt to view the small metal cylinder he'd attached before leaving the hideout. He unclips the cylinder and unscrews the top.

The soup inside has gone lukewarm thanks to the bay's waters, but it should still serve his purposes.

He uses one hand to lift the cylinder to Korra's mouth and gingerly tilts it forward.

"Gently now...gently..."

It takes him ten, tension-filled minutes to get Lieu's chicken soup down Korra's sore throat. Mercifully, despite some reactionary heaving, the Avatar manages to keep it all down. As she eats, he uses his free hand to carefully press and rub key _chi_ points around her upper body – not to disable her, but to stimulate her natural defenses.

Once his task is done he carefully lays her back down; she's sleeping now, and her breathing seems slightly improved but otherwise there has been little visible change.

_Maybe I put a _little _too much sleeping powder in that soup._

He dons his clothes and walks towards the window.

_I just wish I could do something more…but that physician said everything else had been done._

**_...not everything._**

He freezes instantly.

The implications and consequences, mostly horrible ones, race through his weakened mind in an effort to dissuade him.

They fail miserably.

He walks back to the bed and shakes Korra by the shoulder. She moans but her eyes remain closed.

"Avatar, can you hear me?"

No response.

_You've always hated Korra. Why even suggest..._this_?_

**_Perhaps I've had a change of heart._**

He removes the blanket and lays one hand over Korra's heart and the other on her stomach.

**_Just so you know, you're probably going to get the both of you killed._**

_...I love her. I have to try and save her._

**_…then do what you must._**

He lets the power surge through him.

Korra's shakes and convulses as the bloodbending takes effect; her whole body arches and then lifts off the bed entirely; every blood vessel in Korra's body lights up; the eyes do as well, their pupils shrinking to tiny dots in a sea of glowing white.

The scene is as terrifying as it is magnificent.

Part of him, the dark part inside his soul that Yakone so hatefully and cruelly cultivated, screams _CONTROL, POWER, WILL, MASTERY, FORCE, DOMINANCE, DEATH _and compels him to just snap her right then and there.

But unlike the fever dream, he _can_ choose whether or not to humor his dark impulses.

He buries the thoughts and tries his best to continue his work.

_Five seconds…seven seconds…eleven seconds…_

**_Stop._**

_No! I have to be sure!_

**_STOP._**

_No! I can make it, I'm strong enough!_

But he pushes too far.

The power vanishes and the sudden vacuum sends him straight to the floor.

Korra falls back onto the bed with a *WHUMP!*

Neither one of them moves.

* * *

**Author's notes: **So…bloodbending and noncon. Yeah. That just happened.

The noncon scene was a _lot _darker before, but it felt icky and more exploitive than expositive so I pared it down to something less distressing…though I don't see how one can write noncon without it being distressing in some way shape or form. Sincerest apologies to anyone who got triggered from this.

Revelations and aftermath coming next chapter! I consider these chapters (this and the next one) the turning point of the fic. There's obviously the Battle of Republic City coming up but this is the point where the Amorra relationship goes from frenemy fuck-buddies to actual (healthy?...lol nope) romantic (ish) relationship.


	12. Dumplings

_**Life, like making stuff wrapped with more stuff, is complicated.**_

**TRIGGER WARNINGS for blood and other upsetting things.**

* * *

She wakes up the next morning and immediately vomits over the side of the bed.

She wipes out her mouth with the edge of the bedsheet and grimaces at the acrid, pungent taste of half-digested soup, tea and _far_ too much water than a person can conceivably drink in a lifetime.

She is pleasantly surprised to find that while her body still feels like a complete disaster, her pain has lessened significantly and on top of that she can _actually_ move her limbs without feeling as though a thousand knives are jabbed under her skin.

She gingerly swings her legs out of the bed and immediately tenses when her feet make contact with warm, moving cloth instead of soft fur.

She looks over the edge and seizes up when she realizes that _Amon_ _is still in her room_.

Painful though it is, she manages to slide off of the mattress and kneel down next to his unconscious body.

"Amon, wake up, _wake up_!" She hisses.

He moans and his eyes flutter open and she silently thanks the spirits that he's a light sleeper (unlike her).

"Why the hell are you still here? And how are you not in a jail cell?"she yells as quietly as she possibly can (both for health reasons and, you know, the obvious).

"I..." His eyes flutter with uncertainty, as if he wants to hide something, "I may have pushed myself past my limits by coming here."

"Obviously," she says, staring at the door as if it could burst open at any moment. "But what about-"

He sits up and brushes what looks like white fur off of his jacket. "If you're referring to the perpetual inability for law enforcement to apprehend me, I briefly awoke during the night to discover your monstrous hound on top of me. I suspect that is how I avoided discovery by the temple staff." He glances around. "I suspect she sensed your wakefulness and figured her services were no longer needed."

She doesn't bother hiding her surprise. "Naga trusts you?!"

"Apparently so. And I seem to remember that she and I did not have a favorable first impression of each other." He stares at her intently. "Perhaps you could learn something from her."

She can't have this debate right now. "You need to _go_. In about fifteen seconds I'm going to cry out and plenty of people will come running to see my miraculous recovery." She hesitates for a moment, then leans down to give him a soft kiss. "Thanks for the soup. You'll have to give me the recipe sometime."

"Are you asking for another naked cooking lesson, Avatar?"

She blushes but answers defiantly, "Yes. But you'll be the only one who's naked."

"I can agree to those terms," he responds knowingly.

"Fine. Good. Now get out."

"Get back to bed."

"I will. _Out_."

She watches as he shambles over to the window, peers out, and crawls over and out the frame.

She clambers back into bed, pulls the covers over her head and retreats back into herself.

_So the fever is no longer an issue. That's good._

Of course, there's the _tiny_ problem that she's three months pregnant.

(***)

_When she was late for a second month, she knew._

_She had spent the whole week waiting in agony for the telltale stains in her smalls._

_When the day came and went and there was no blood to be found, she spent a good three minutes hyperventilating in a storeroom before remembering her breathing lessons and using them to calm herself._

_There wasn't too much analysis to be done. She knew who the father was, obviously. She could figure out about the time she had gotten pregnant._

_The only problem was how._

You know how.

_She went to find Asami inside the Air Temple; she spotted the heiress sparring with Mako just outside the courtyard. She walked up, unceremoniously grabbed her friend by the arm and dragged her away, leaving an utterly confused Mako behind in her wake._

_Once they were in the privacy of Korra's bedroom, she explained the situation to Asami and endured a host of questions._

_Was it Tarrlok's? No._

_Was she assaulted by someone? No, she was quite willing._

_Was she taking any herbs? No, ironically because of health reasons._

_Was she taking other precautions? Yes, but obviously they hadn't worked._

_They talked about keeping the baby, and not keeping the baby; Asami even suggested leaving the city (which she shot down _immediately_). Finally they decided that it was still early on and there was time to spare. Asami agreed to make discreet inquiries about doctors and would prep a few of her hiding places around the city. They also agreed that they needed to have _far_ more conversations involving things other than man troubles. _

_Asami smiled and got up to leave._

_"Hey Asami," she blurted out, her voice cracking slightly, "what do you think I should do?"_

_There was a pause. "As your friend," she began softly, "I think you should keep it. I know what people say about you – about both of us, really – but you are smart, determined, and kind and I think you'd make a _wonderful_ mother." Her brow furrowed. "As a citizen of Repbulic City…I think stopping Amon is your first priority. Anything that distracts you from that goal is just an obstacle not worth having."_

_Asami left the room, and Korra was alone._

_She lay down on the bed in silent thought for several hours afterwards._

* * *

_No one knew how or where the fever started – it could've been rats, it could've been merchants, it could've been unsanitized food – it could've been anything, really. That didn't matter – all anyone was concerned with was tending to the sick and figuring out how to end the outbreak before it turned into a pandemic; with the world's rapid industrialization, it wasn't just information and goods that traveled with surprising speed. The already increased police presence about the city made it easy for the council and newly appointed Chief Saikhan to declare quarantine. Any conspiracies about the fever being artificially introduced by the council to control the non-bending populace were quickly squashed as the disease hit everyone in the city with equal impunity and equal ruthlessness._

_She quickly volunteered her healing talents to the unprepared and scrambling Republic City health services. Pregnant or not, she was still the Avatar, and thus duty bound to help the citizens of Republic City in any way that she could. Besides, she'd always been a healthy girl who rarely got sick. _

_And that was the reason why, eleven days after the crisis began,, she went to bed with a headache and some mild nausea and thought nothing of it._

_She threw up several times throughout day twelve and brushed it off as morning sickness (though she told everyone else she'd eaten some bad noodles)._

_When she tried to get out of bed on day thirteen and her body responded with searing pain, she knew that she'd misjudged the state of her health. Pema preemptively confined her to bed._

_When the sun rose on day fourteen, she was a sweating, feverish wreck slipping in and out of consciousness._

* * *

**Sometimes she dreamed of the ice**.

_She was home, the place to which she'd always return._

_She was sitting astride Naga as the dog bounded across the frozen landscape, the biting wind stinging the eyes of both man and beast._

_A sizable glimmer on the path ahead went unnoticed by either party. _

_Suddenly Naga stumbled and she tumbled off her mount and fell onto the frozen terrain. But she just laughed and laughed until the tears of cold became tears of joy and celebration._

_After all, she was home._

_Nothing could harm her here._

_And so she and Naga lay there until the sun vanished from sight and thought, and as Tui and La did their nightly dnace she snuggled into Naga's fur and watched the Blue Spirit and the Painted Lady make love in the sky._

_She didn't worry about the cold._

_She knew the ice, and it knew her._

* * *

**Sometimes she was alone.**

_She stumbled through the desert, bedraggled, abandoned and forgotten, her swollen belly her only remaining companion and comfort. She was no longer the Avatar, no longer the favored savior of Republic City nor the gifted daughter of Senna and Tonraq. Instead she was the whore who'd slept with a terrorist and been seeded with his corrupt offspring._

_No towns welcomed her with adoration._

_No doors were opened to offer shelter or respite._

_No one offered beast or car or cart to speed her on her way._

_She would have wandered forever were it not for the rush of blood and water that trickled from between her legs._

_The birth was agonizing and terrifying and so _tiring_, and when the bloody bundle of flesh had finally torn its way out of her, silence was the only answer to her pitiful pleas for the child to cry._

* * *

**Sometimes she was a god.**

_They were on their knees. Everyone she'd ever known, ever loved, ever feared. Now _they_ all feared her, for she was invincible, infinite, immortal._

_A storm raged overhead. The waters churned below. The earth shook in agony. Fires danced in ecstasy. She felt the energy of all living things, and their spirits trembled with trepidation._

_She was the Avatar. She was everything and they were nothing._

_She raised her enemies up before her and clenched her fists, and they dissolved before her eyes with screams and blood, and it was pleasing to her. _

_Amon's death was the most satisfying. He looked so pitiful, so hollow, so broken in his final moments. Why had she ever been afraid of him? Why had she ever given him that power – given him any power over her?_

_It didn't matter anymore._

_She gazed out at her kingdom and her subjects; her eyes filled with the energy of the stars._

_"I AM AVATAR KORRA, AND I NOW USHER IN A NEW AGE UPON THIS EARTH."_

* * *

**Sometimes she was dead.**

_Being a corpse was cold._

_She was standing right next to her body, but she could still feel it – the lack of warmth, the absence of those minute pulses in her neck and wrists, the silence of the elements – but the last one had been taken before her death. Her lover had seen to that._

_There was Lin Beifong, her body badly burned and still twitching from the electric shocks the Equalists had given her._

_Tenzin lay next to her, his body mangled from impact. The sky might be freedom for an Air Nomad, but it's hard for one to fly once one's bending has been stripped away._

_She doesn't know where the bodies of the brothers or Tenzin's family are being held. But she knows they're dead. _He _told her so. And she knew he wasn't lying – she'd seen the same look of satisfaction far too many times during their nighttime meets._

_And of course, there was Asami. Poor, poor Asami._

_She turned to the wall to see the pallid corpse of her friend and confidante, now staked to the stone by her father's mech._

_She had been fighting on the roof when she heard Asami cry "Father?!" before the sounds of sharpened metal and the sickening squelch of punctured organs reached her ears. She looked down to see Hiroshi Sato's hatefully staring at his dying daughter._

She deserved better, _she thought wistfully._

_And then everything went dark, and a crawling, suffocating oblivion took its place._

_It was less painful than reflecting on her own death._

* * *

**Sometimes she was ****_his_****. **

_It was the thing she feared more than anything else. Yielding to him._

_Every meeting, whether in bed or otherwise, had been a struggle for something: power, control, trust, truth. Some battles had been subtle. Others were more clearly marked._

_But he was older than her. Probably smarter and wiser too, though age was no guarantee of intelligence or reason. He had a lifetime of reading and knowing people that she had yet to master. He was persuasive. Charismatic. Principled. Driven. Passionate. _

_When they were together – his fingers tracing the scars along her shoulders, her hand gliding over the arches of his feet – when he was moving inside her, fingers pressed on hips and spines, the primal rhythm of their bodies in motion – it felt so _right_. And the uncertainty _

_So in her dreams, she surrendered to the feelings, to the emotions, the experience, her mind, body and soul rising and falling as he consumed her in every way she knew possible, in the ways she most desired, the ones she dared not to tell him, in all the ways she feared most._

_Sometimes she was willing._

_Sometimes she was not._

_Sometimes she wasn't sure._

_Sometimes she just didn't care._

And then the dreams were interrupted, and Amon was in her room with sweet words and savory soup and silken embrace.

She had one final dream before she woke up for the last time: she was a puppet, her body wooden and contorted, and through her painted eyes she could see Tarrlok and Amon yanking and pulling on her strings, sending eerie sensations throughout her body.

At the time she thought it was the dream was merely psychological.

She would not learn the truth until much later.

(***)

The morning after her recovery, she wakes up with blood covering her thighs. Too much blood.

She rushes to the toilet and sits there as pain rushes through her abdomen and thin trickles of blood periodically run down her skin.

After an hour or so, the ordeal is finally over.

She wipes herself and the bathroom down with the bed sheets, balls them up and hides them in the closet. She finds some clean underwear and puts a simple blue smock over it.

When Temple staff come to check on her, find her sitting up and smiling, they call for Tenzin, Pema and the kids. Together they congratulate her on her recovery.

The nurses quietly ask to collect her old linens for disposal. She says that she'll burn them herself, adding the most maniacal grin she can muster in her current state. Everyone laughs (because it's _such _a Korra thing to do) so with winks and (brief) hugs and happy tears they leave her to her...grief? Relief? Uncertainty?

She isn't sure what she's supposed to feel.

She goes into the closet and stares at the bloody sheets until she nears Naga scratching at the door, finally back from a delivery and desperate to see her master.

* * *

She keeps the ashes in an urn. The ashes of her child. _Their_ child.

There are a lot of ashes in Republic City right now. Burnt sheets, burnt bodies. Burnt buildings. Some parts of the city were hit so hard that whole neighborhoods are being burnt down and rebuilt for health and safety reasons.

This only makes tensions worse, but she doesn't care right now. She can't care.

She doesn't have the strength to care.

She's standing in front of the Bay in an area that usually remains deserted. The ashes are tucked under one arm, and the other arm holds a small box filled with rice and dumplings.

At least, it's supposed to be rice and dumplings. The meat is bland, the dough is torn everywhere, the rice is still hard and it's _way_ too greasy. But _she_ made it. She **had** to make it. It wouldn't feel right otherwise.

So as the city mourns the loss of many, she mourns the loss of one. She gently pours the ashes out into the water, and recites the Southern Water Tribe funeral rites for children and infants, and watches as the grey patch disappears into the glittering reddish gold of the sunset waters before throwing the urn into the sea and heading into the city.

It seemed the right thing to do.

And now no one will ever know.

* * *

She finds Amon bent over his desk, his face weary and withdrawn. He looks up and brightens when he sees her, and the box under her arm.

"You're back," he says breathily, relief palpable on his face.

She holds up the box. "Don't get too excited. It's funeral food. And I made it."

His expression falls again.

"Disappointed?"

"Yes."

"I'm _pretty_ sure you'll live," she adds sheepishly.

"About it being funeral food. I've had enough of that shit to last a lifetime." Amon's eyes soften when he sees her crestfallen expression. "But for your sake I'll suffer through another helping."

They eat together in silence. She notices how often he grimaces but is quick to steel his face whenever she looks directly at him.

Afterwards they clean the dishes and when she asks Amon about how the Equalists fared he always whistles and feigns deafness, but their earlier conversation was telling, and she drops it.

The Avatar in her rejoices at getting more time to finally cut the crap and end his threat.

The person in her is hurt to see him so dejected.

Everything is finished. She gives a surprisingly sincere condolence to him about his soldiers and turns to leave.

Then the words just spill out of her mouth.

"I was pregnant."

There is a crash and she turns to see a white-faced Amon standing over the remains of a drinking cup. The look in his eyes is guilt-filled and haunting.

"I was three months along and…I...the day after I woke up I was covered with blood…" Her voice quavers. "It's not like I could've kept the baby anyways. Or that you would have wanted it – can you imagine, _you_ and _me_ with a _baby_? _Spirits_, what a _fucking_ joke that would've been…I can't even handle the terrible trio for half-an-ho-"

The laughter, like the tears, erupts from nowhere, and she finds herself on her knees with frantic giggles escaping from her throat and water dripping from her chin and she doesn't even know _why _this is happening _it's so ridiculous_ and the laughter gives way to wracking sobs and she looks at her shaking hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she says to no one in particular. "I don't understand…I wasn't even sure, I didn't even care…why am I even-"

But then she hears Amon's footsteps coming across the floor, and he gently scoops her up into his arms, carries her over to the bed and places her down. He snuggles in next to her, wrapping his arms around her and gently pressing her face to his chest while he kisses her hair and whispers "shh, shh, it's alright, you'll be okay," until time loses all meaning and sleep overtakes her.

* * *

When she wakes up and sees the wall clock, she realizes that she stayed the whole night, something she has _never_ done before.

She glances up at her sleeping lover, his face still framed with concern for her wellbeing.

And habit and instinct tell her to run away, to start forming an excuse for an undoubtedly worried Tenzin and Pema, she draws closer to Amon and closes her eyes.

If she ever remembered the dream she had that morning, it would break her heart.

* * *

**Author's notes: **This is the (first) turning point of the story. They will still have a few issues to work out (like the bloodbending bombshell and the Season 1 finale), but this is the "hump," the halfway point, as I see it.


	13. Pancakes

**_In all fairness, it's pretty easy to get distracted while cooking._**

* * *

He wakes up to find Korra still in his arms, still clinging to him for comfort, and he's immediately wracked with guilt.

He didn't know about the baby, and from what she'd babbled to him, she would've made sure that he'd never known. But in saving Korra's life, he'd ended another. He was _sure _of it.

_I killed our child._ _I did this to her._

But he shakes himself out of it. He can't make this about _him_. This has to be about _her_.

So he carefully gets out of bed and goes over to the stove. He mixes a bowl of dough and seasons it with onions, salt and garlic. He's making pancakes – something Lieu told him that he should _always _do the first time company spent the night.

He has just about finished the first batch when he hears Korra stirring in the bed. He turns back to see the Avatar walking over towards him, a sad smile on her face. He turns back to the stove and feels Korra's lips press against his neck.

"Good morning," she says softly, resting her head against his cheek.

"Good morning to you," he replies in turn. "Are you…"

"Okay? I honestly don't know. I'll work that out in time." She fiddles with his shirt collar. "So…this is – new."

"I assure you I've bought nothing consequential since your last visit, Avatar."

"I mean the whole 'spending the night' thing."

He flips the circle of dough currently in the pan. "It was…refreshing. I could get used to it."

"Well don't get used to it," she says defensively, though he can feel her skin heat up.

"Hmmm," is his only reply, and he continues to cook.

She remains behind him for a minute or so, her fingers gently tapping against his sides.

"Thank you," she murmurs, "for last night. I mean, you didn't have to – I didn't think you'd even-"

"Why wouldn't I?" he says, turning around to face her, surprised that he is legitimately offended at this slight against his character.

"I mean, you're..." She looks away, flustered.

But he catches her by the chin, turns her face back towards his own, and peers at her.

The look in her eyes is unreadable, unknowable, as if she doesn't know what's about to happen or what she should do next.

And then something makes her lean forward.

She kisses him, slowly and gently, until her hands creep up his body to cup his face.

They work their way backwards towards the dining table. She grasps the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head, resting her hands on his weathered chest.

"Is this…too soon?" he murmurs.

"No, no, it's…I mean…we're – _I'm_ – fine."

Korra takes off her jacket and shirt, and he helps her unwrap the swath of cloth from around her breasts.

"You know, they sell some lovely brassieres at the department stores," he says as the last turn falls away. "Surely it's much easier than all of this."

Korra wrinkles her nose. "Those are too girly for me...are you making a request?"

He takes a nipple into his mouth and she gasps. "Oh no," he murmurs between sucks, "I like your wrappings just fine. More foreplay. More..._excitement_."

They lay on top of the table for some time, his mouth traveling between her lips, face, neck and breasts; he savors each sound: every sigh, every gasp, every hitch, every moan; he delights in every scratch of her fingers across his back, the arousal he feels as she wriggles her hips against his leg until she can endure no more and slides her hand down his pants.

He arches his back as her hand glides up and down his length.

"Avatar," he barks harshly.

"Please," she utters meekly, "I know you don't like it but..._please_."

Every rational thought screams at him not to yield, not to relinquish control.

But still he yields.

He nervously pulls down his trousers and underwear and kicks them to the side. He then adjusts himself as Korra shifts on top of the table until her torso is at his waist and her pelvis is at his shoulders.

She lowers her head and takes him into her mouth.

* * *

_He had only let her do this once before - he'd had _just_ enough rice wine, and she'd been curious. _

_He believes in giving pleasure, not receiving it - he revels in the power that (he _thinks_) it gives him, real or not, the control he so desperately craves. _

_But he found her inquisitiveness endearing, and so he indulged her that one time._

_But now the world shrinks to the warm flesh around him._

* * *

He feels the head of his cock press against the roof of her mouth; her jaw clenches as she tries to keep her teeth in check. She hesitantly runs her tongue along the sensitive skin of his shaft, stopping whenever he gasps or moans, as if she's taking notes for future attempts - as if he'd ever let her do this again.

_Will I let her do this again?_

He's not sure that the answer is no.

He decides that he needs to reassert himself, to regain control of the situation, and of himself.

He pulls down _her_ pants and underwear to reveal her swelling labia; he grips her thighs and pulls her backwards until his nose brushes against her slit.

He tilts his head backward and slips his tongue between her folds.

She reacts by clamping down on the organ in her mouth, and pain courses from his groin to his skull. He grunts and she murmurs apologetically. Korra pulls off of his cock to press a few kisses to the faint red marks encircling his girth before engulfing him with her mouth once again.

He works on her, and she on him, until he realizes that climax is sneaking up on him, and he begins to lash his tongue against nub with ever-increasing speed, and he slides two fingers in and out of her slippery cunt, but it's too late; his balls tighten and before he can even think to bend the blood away from his loins the seed erupts from his body, his length pulsing with heat and pleasure. Korra makes a surprised noise and gags a little but he feels her tongue sliding and scraping and then come two quick contractions of her throat; she disengages and swings herself around, taking her dripping heat out of his reach.

She looks at him and he can see the nervousness in her eyes; a little dip of her head, then she's kissing him full on the mouth.

He is used to the taste and feel of semen in his mouth – he had lost count of the number of times he had brought Lieu to climax, his aide's hands pressed firmly against his head – the times he has pleasured Korra with his mouth _after_ intercourse - but this taste, after _this_ act…

It is strange and new to him.

"You could've warned a girl that you were about to cum," she says, half-teasingly and half-seriously.

He glances between her legs. "I didn't…you didn't let me…"

"You can finish what you started after things 'reset,'" she says with a coy look.

But he wants her _now_. His body – no, his soul – yearns to be joined with her.

He gets up from the table. "Stay there," he growls in his most authoritative voice; he grins to himself when he sees a shiver run through her enticing frame. He rummages in the kitchen cupboards and pretends to grab something from a tin and put it in his mouth, but in reality he is bending blood back into his cock (ignoring its painful protests).

After waiting several minutes (to main the illusion of taking an external aid), he returns to the table and is rewarded for his efforts when Korra's eyes bulge at the swift return of his erection.

"How…that's not-" She stares at him blankly.

"A certain herb I found in my travels. Surely you are familiar with it, yes?"

"I've…heard stories…but…" She can't take her eyes off of him. "Why haven't you used this mystery herb before now?"

He deflects the question by gingerly climbing on top of her and spreading her legs apart, running his slick glans against her clit. She squirms impatiently underneath him.

"You know, this could qualify as torture," she gasps in desperation.

The name spills out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

"_Korra._"

They both freeze.

In all their time together he has _never_ uttered her real name aloud.

Always "Avatar." Never "Korra."

"_Korra._"

The word feels so strange on his tongue, as if there's taffy stuck to the underside, pulling against any movement.

He slides his arms under her shoulders, shifts his groin forward and slips inside her burning heat.

"Being in love with you _is_ torture," he confesses, his voice filled with a rawness and honesty that has too rarely surfaced in their conversations.

* * *

There are no more words said between them, no more anguished truths or circuitous doubts about their relationship.

His thrusts are slow and sure, and she returns them with equal temperament.

Her legs are wrapped around his waist, and her arms embrace him, pulling him closer than she has ever done before.

His hands trace fluttering patterns across her face and shoulder, memorizing the sensation of her fingers against his skin.

Her lips taste the sweetest they've ever been.

Time loses all meaning, all relevance and all consequence: there is only Korra, and him, and their love, and their hips, and all things spoken and most of the unspoken worming its way to the surface.

His body sings, his body soars, and when they finally, _finally_ can endure no more and reach their pleasure at the the same time, the fire consumes his whole being.

(***)

Back on the stove, the fire has long since consumed the pancake, turning it to unpalatable ash.

Neither person takes notice.

* * *

**Author's notes: **BAD, DIRTY SMUT AHOY

Though I hadn't consciously intended it, the talk about bindings became a callback to a mental conversation Korra has in "Onions."

Reviews, suggestions and other feedback are always appreciated. No seriously: if you read this, PLEASE leave a review, especially if you think I'm doing something wrong or think I can do something better (for this story or future ones).


	14. Apples

**_One step forward, twelve jumps back._**

* * *

He's starting to lose control, and it scares him.

Every day a little bit of Amon slips away, and a little more of Noatak takes its place.

The post-fever rebuilding efforts are going _much_ too slowly, and things are starting to fall apart. Every moment when the Equalist movement is not running at full strength, racing towards the endgame, is another moment for doubt and longing to wedge cracks in his coalition. Between his concerns for his revolution and the recent emotional flashpoint with Korra, he remains frustrated and constantly on edge.

But mostly it seems to be Korra.

_Being in love is ruining me._

**_Ruining you, or making you free?_**

_Love_…

He had forgotten that love felt _good_. Love of friends...of bedmates...

**_Love of family._**

His treatment of Tarrlok gives birth to fresh guilt gnawing at his soul.

But love requires sacrifice. Love requires compromise.

Love requires ceding control, and ceding control, unless part of a strategical feint, is unacceptable.

It is the one lesson from Yakone that still burns within his mind.

That, and the bloodbending.

So _by the spirits_ he will regain control - both over Korra, and over himself.

* * *

The apples strewn about the bed are expensive, as are the two lengths of silk cord tucked under the pillow, but should everything go as planned, they will be well worth the cost – which leads to the _other_ important part of his presentation.

_Washed, groomed, perfumed_, he recites to himself.

When Korra sneaks into his quarters later that night, she discovers him stretched out across the bed in _all_ his naked glory.

There's nothing new to see along his bare frame, but her pupils still widen and her throat contracts; even from all the way across the room, he can feel the blood rushing towards her lower regions.

_So far so good_.

"Good evening, Korra," he purrs in a sultry tone.

She swallows again. "H…hel…"

_This is working much better than I expected._

"Why don't you join me?" he says sweetly, patting an empty patch of bedding. She disrobes with lightning speed and sits cross-legged on the spot he indicated.

She reaches out an arm, hesitantly touching his chest as if it's made of fragile porcelain. "You look…and you _smell_...I mean…"

"Delectable?" he adds helpfully.

"Fuck yes," she answers, unconsciously nodding her head like a puppy being presented with a large bone.

He proffers an apple, which she eagerly accepts. Korra bites into it, moaning with delight as the sweet flesh slides across her tongue.

"How the hell do you afford all this? I'm sure Hiroshi Sato wouldn't appreciate what's left of his fortune going towards treats for the Avatar."

"I have acquired cash and capital throughout the years on my own merits, Korra."

She makes air quotes and gives him one of _those_ looks.

"Acquired. Not stolen. _Ac-qui-red,_" he rebuts firmly.

As Korra finishes her fruit, he slowly runs a hand up and down her side, pressing into certain areas he knows are sensitive to her.

"So…" he begins, "I thought we might enjoy a little competition this evening."

Korra glances around the room, and at the apples. "I think you're two tubs and a fair short of a party game, love."

"It's more of an endurance challenge than anything else." He rubs an apple against her shoulder.

She looks at him oddly, then insight flashes across her face and her eyes narrow. "Where are the ropes?"

He obviously failed to look convincingly innocent, as Korra's eyes narrow even further and she glances at the pillows.

_Oh, shit, did I look at-_

He grabs for her arms but it's too late; she reaches under the pillows and removes the silk cords.

"Really? Really."

He stares dumbly at her.

"I thought you were finally, _finally_ getting past the whole 'not being honest with me' thing."

His brain races for a dozen phrases to turn the situation around, but then he notices that she's wrapping a rope around her left wrist.

"Korra?" he says perplexedly.

"You need to learn not to use manipulation as the default method of getting me to do things. You ask me outright." She wraps a rope around her right wrist. "If I say no, I probably have a good reason for it. And even if I _don't_, it's not your place to question my logic, or lack thereof, unless my life is actually in peril."

She slides back to the headboard and ties the other ends of the ropes to the posts, giving each one a few experimental tugs. Her arms can comfortably reach from the headboard to her waist.

"That's not quite what I had in mind," he mutters.

"Then next time, ask first, and you might get what you want from the beginning," she replies firmly.

"There's going to be a next time?" he adds hopefully.

"That depends on how you behave for the remainder of _this_ time. So…_master_." She utters the word with as much disdain as she can muster. "What did you have in mind for this evening?"

"I was going to tie you up and pleasure you, always bringing you close but never letting you over the edge until you begged me for release or, even better, for me to fuck you."

"And the apples?"

"_Those_…were just for decoration," he admits sheepishly. "Honestly, I wasn't planning to do anything with them."

"Boring." She kicks his thigh. "But I have something that might work." She bends her knee upwards, a signal for him to come closer.

He leans on top of her, sliding a hand towards her abdomen.

"See, that?" She knowingly glances down at his descending fingers. "That's the kind of thing you need to stop doing for reasons other than being a good boyfriend."

He inwardly curses himself (both for acting on instinct and for getting caught) and the hand quickly withdraws.

"Small steps." She smiles. "Small steps. Now, if this is supposed to be an _endurance_ _competition_, there should be winning and losing conditions." She picks up a nearby apple. "This will be our scorekeeper."

He raises an eyebrow.

"I keep the apple in my mouth," explains Korra, "and you use that gifted tongue of yours. After my first orgasm, if the apple is still in my mouth, I win."

"Third," he counters.

"_First_. You'll just have to make it a good one."

"And what happens if you win?"

"I'm not saying," she replies, sticking her tongue out at him. "I promise I won't do anything particularly dangerous. Or maybe not," she adds casually. "That's the risk you take when you trust someone with your body and soul."

"And if the apple falls?"

"Well…you'll have a captive, hysteric, nubile woman completely at your mercy. I'm sure you'll think of _something_ villainous to do with me."

He plucks an apple from the sheets and lodges it in her mouth; he can't help but smirk at her muffled protests of indignation.

"Deal."

* * *

He doesn't start from below. That would be too easy.

Instead he starts at the neck – little nibbles on small patches of skin, mostly around the hollow of her throat. He traces his fingers along the other side of neck, on the area directly opposite his lips. A rumble of appreciation sounds through her chest.

"You know, it's perfectly alright to open your mouth…let it all out…"

She mumbles something through the apple. It sounds suspiciously like "fat chance."

"Suit yourself," he says with a shrug.

After finishing his assault on her neck, he's moves on to her shoulder blades, running his tongue inside the little space between the arm joint and the clavicle. She pulls an approving hand through his hair.

"Ah, ah. No hands, Korra."

She makes a nasal, disappointed noise.

He kisses his way down to her left breast; her nipples grow hard, the areolae darkening from the sudden rush of blood to the skin. He wraps his tongue around the stiffening flesh, tenderly pulling and biting at it. He loves the textural contrast between the two areas of skin: one rough, one smooth.

He uses one hand to gently stroke the underside of her breast while the other hand makes spider webs up and down her sides.

She moans and the apple shifts a little, but it is no forfeit. _Not yet._

He does the same thing to her right breast, but this time the hand on Korra's side moves inwards and deliberately traces a line from her heart to her stomach, and makes slow, lazy circles around her navel.

She squirms against the sheets, and her movements reveal a glimmer of the moisture gathering between her legs. Part of him wants those legs to be tied down, but he rather enjoys it when she squeezes his head between her thighs. _Another time perhaps_, he thinks to himself.

He decides that enough time has been spent on her bosom and he resumes his flurry of tiny kisses, this time beginning at the area above her heart and working his way downwards. He stops at her belly button, and swirls his tongue around and around; it's a ticklish spot for Korra, and she responds accordingly but still holds onto the fruit.

"Fshee shee faf faf." _Cheating bastard._

He gives her an expression of mock denial before laying one last kiss on the mound of hair and fat just above her clitoris before retreating off the bed to grasp Korra's right foot.

She vocalizes her frustration, and he chuckles.

"Patience, Avatar. But I promise that I'll keep it to just one leg. _This_ time."

He tries sucking on her toes (because she _really_ enjoys having the same thing done to her fingers), but it seems more ticklish than sensual, so he leaves it alone.

When he moves up to the arch of her foot, it sends another rumble through her body.

Then the ankle.

Then the calf.

Then the knee.

Then the upper thigh.

And as he goes up and in he starts to take longer and longer with his kisses, the pauses in between taking even longer still.

He stills briefly on the artery, letting the pulse of blood inside her body sing to him.

And then his lips are _there_, and she opens for him like a flower.

* * *

He starts by taking a deep breath through his nose. Several deep breaths, to be exact.

Not that he really _needs_ to smell her: the scent has long been burned into his brain.

It's heavy, earthy, like a patch of soil after a rainstorm, but there's a minute sweetness underneath it, a note he can never quite identify. The smell is always changing in subtle ways, nothing drastic though. But he appreciates the variances, no matter how small. It lets him experience something new every time.

He kisses her nub, pulling it back and forth between his lips. He smiles when her thighs take their usual place against his head.

_Slow and steady, Noa. _

The tip of his tongue flicks against the nerve bundle. His movements are fleeting, designed to cause minimal pleasure and maximum agitation. She starts moaning from behind the apple – the kind of moaning that, if her mouth were unobstructed, would send the blood in his veins racing straight to his cock. As things stand, he is concentrating too hard to spare any blood for an erection. He is, after all, in a competition.

And so far, his plan is working _beautifully._

When he figures she's had enough teasing, he starts making slow circles around her clitoris, feeling the grip from her thighs grow tighter and tighter, her breathing becoming more rapid and shallow. This goes on, and on, and on, and the circles become faster and faster until it seems like a blur to him; he can't tell if her moans are of approval or of oversensitivity.

Then he just stops - without warning and without remorse. She gives a muffled scream of anger.

He looks up at her eyes, and she glances down at the apple. He removes it from her mouth.

"Well? Ready to give up?"

To his surprise, she grins at him. "That's." (_pant_) "It?" (_pant_) "What else." (_pant_) "Have you." (_pant_) "Got?"

Annoyance surges through him, and he unceremoniously shoves the apple back in her mouth.

He doesn't go for her clit again, not yet; too much stimulation too fast and things might become painful (or she'll peak too soon) and thus be counter-intuitive to his goals.

Instead, he runs his tongue up and down the space between her outer lips, and delights when her pelvis shivers in response. He takes two fingers and runs them along the area between her outer and inner folds until his digits are drenched with her essence.

Then his fingers move between and through.

The pink skin inside her body is soft and smooth, and he can feel the little folds and ridges of the muscles underneath it, the ones that give him (and her) so much pleasure during their couplings. He slowly rotates his fingers around the total circumference, then in and out, and then in all directions until he hears a crunch from above.

He looks up from his work to see that Korra has accidentally bitten into the fruit, and from what he can tell only a thin sliver of flesh (and her careful jaw grip) is keeping their scorekeeper from dropping to the sheets. Her face is flush with arousal and embarrassment, but her eyes still show a measure of defiance.

"Yield," he growls.

_No_, is her silent reply.

He crooks his fingers upwards, dragging the pads across the rough patch of skin directly underneath her clitoris, and he hears the scrunching of the sheets as her hands ball around them and she lets out a particularly gratifying groan.

"_Yield._"

"Bih may." _Bite me._

It's at this point that he decides to forget careful plans and measured movements: he will make her cum, she will scream his name and _she will drop that fucking apple_.

His tongue replaces the fingers currently inside her, and said fingers go to straight for her clitoris.

His assault on her center is so aggressive that her hands leave the sheets to scrabble for purchase on the headboards; her grip becomes so painful he has to surreptitiously bloodbend various areas on his face relieve the pain. Her breathing becomes shallower and shallower, the movements of his mouth and hands more and more violent, the tension in both their bodies twisting and stretching to almost unbearable levels.

Then Korra's back arches, her thighs crush and relax, his chin is suddenly soaked with moisture (in addition to what was already there), and she lets out a _scream_ – a full, unobstructed, game-losing wail.

He presses the upper roof of her cunt with his tongue once more for good measure, and triumphantly rises up to face the conquered Avatar…and the blood rushes from his face.

It's just a tiny piece, and it dangles from the bite she made earlier, but Korra has it clenched between her teeth, and the rest of the apple hangs from it.

"_I thstill got it._"

He opens his mouth to challenge her, to demand her forfeit, to say that such a victory is ludicrous.

**_Let it go, Noa. Be gracious. You lost._**

_I could hear her scream. The whole damn base could probably hear her scr-_

**_Noatak…_****yield.**

* * *

Wanting_ to change your ways for someone you love is easy. _Actually_ changing your ways for someone you love is a pain in the ass._

_Power and trust. Trust and power._

_Trust means honesty. Trust means faith._

_Faith sometimes requires uncertain action._

_And so for the first time in their relationship, without scheme or plot or self-interest behind it, he yields._

* * *

"It seems I have lost, Avatar," he says softly. "I must admit your…temerity…is admirable."

"Back to 'Avatar' now, is it?" she says, her voice devoid of any sarcasm or taunt.

"No! No…" He hesitates. "But it is wise to show respect to one's victors…and hope that they will show mercy to the conquered."

Korra burns the silk ropes away. He winces at losing such expensive material, but he says nothing about it.

"Hmm," she murmurs as she sits up and moves towards him. "I know _just_ what to do with you."

He braces himself for something painful, something horrible, something humiliating. He more than deserves it, considering the things he's put her through - tonight, and so many times before now.

He doesn't expect her to pull him up to the top of the bed and nestle against him with her back against his chest.

"Your punishment –" Korra pulls his right arm across her waist. "–is to stay right there for the rest of the night."

She smirks at the dumbfounded look on his face, then shakes her head and kisses him on the cheek.

"You really shouldn't think the worst about people." The smirk fades. "Especially when they love you."

He stays awake long after she has fallen asleep and listens to her breathing as he runs his fingers through her hair.

He is still awake come the morning.

* * *

"You look like you've been up all night," says Korra groggily.

"I have," he says bluntly.

"Why would you –"

(**_Noatak…_****yield.**)

"We can't meet anymore."

He can feel her stomach drop.

(**_Noatak…_****yield.**)

"Not here. It's not good for you, and it's not healthy for our relationship."

She sits upright. "What exactly are you saying?"

(**_Noatak…_****yield.**)

He gives her a satisfied smile. "Korra…_you_ are going to find us an apartment."

* * *

**Author's notes: **It was originally supposed to be three orgasms to crown a victor, but I couldn't figure out how to convincingly write out three different cunnilingus scenes in one chapter :p

The apartment thing is a new development (one I hadn't originally planned), but given that I'm trying to move Amon past (most) of his control freak tendencies/trust issues in the next couple of chapters, this makes a lot of sense (besides, I've asked y'all to suspend your disbelief about Korra sneaking into the Equalist base for booty calls **way** too many times now).

As always, reviews, suggestions and (helpful) criticism are always appreciated.


	15. Crabs

**_…the _****edible****_ kind, you pervs._**

* * *

She keeps the blindfold over his eyes even as they go up the stairs.

"You know, this would go a lot better if I could see where we were going," says Amon.

"You got to see where we were going on the car ride over."

He snorts. "Only because your driving was so atrocious that I was forced to intervene. I spent the first five terror-filled minutes with my eyes covered, remember?"

She looks indignantly at him, even though he can't see her expression (_especially_ because he can't see it). "I'm still learning, thank you very much."

"Mmm," is his only reply.

She opens the door and pulls him inside the room before undoing the blue muslin across his eyes. "Okay, big guy...eyes open."

She watches carefully as he takes in his surroundings: a small yet comfortable room decked with dark red paint, a plush-looking bed, a toilet and shower room tucked into the back left corner and a small kitchen at the front.

"This is…" He looks surprised. "This is quite nice, Korra. How did you-?"

"Asami and I discussed som_e _options when I was still...well, you know." A twinge of regret graces her face. "The apartment was originally supposed to be a hidey-hole from the press and other people whom I wanted to avoid. Including you." She looks apologetically at him. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize. I'm sure your reasoning was sound."

"Anyway…I hinted to Asami that while the baby is no longer a consideration, mystery man and I were still together and it _would_ be nice to have a discreet love nest somewhere in the city."

"Somewhere that isn't your boyfriend's secret underground stronghold."

"Don't worry; she doesn't know that you're _you_. Though I **did** imply that your place was less than satisfactory. And that you're really messy."

"Avatar, I'm hurt," Amon says mockingly.

"Well, I'm sure you'll get over it," she responds, and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He glances around. "Does Hiroshi know about this?" he asks curiously.

"No," she answers, steeling her face, "and it _has_ to stay that way. No one else gets to know about this."

She reaches into her pelt, pulls out a key and wraps his hand around it. "It's not as fun as having me sneak around your home turf," she says with a smirk, "but it's less stressful."

"Thank you," replies Amon softly, and clutches the key to his chest.

"So…" she begins, "now that we're actually _here_ I thought we should…you know…break the place in."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "And you're sure Miss Sato would be okay with that?"

"Wouldn't be the first time someone got laid in this apartment."

"Well then…" He suddenly hauls her up and over his shoulder. She shrieks with surprise and delight and pounds his back with her fists in mock protest. Amon playfully smacks her on the ass, and when they reach the bed he trips and they tumble over and onto the sheets.

They look at their tangled mess of limbs and linens and burst out laughing.

The laughter quickly turns to gasps and moans.

They "break in" the apartment until the blue-gray hours of early dawn.

* * *

Experiencing the familiar tingle of post-coital bliss in the still mostly unfamiliar setting of the apartment gives her an impulse she probably would never had had in Amon's chambers.

"We should go to the beach," she says, idly tracing waterbending sigils on Amon's chest.

"Trying to get a tan? I'm not sure anyone will notice," he responds cheekily.

She punches him (lightly) in the face. "You _jerk_. But seriously…" She bites her lip. "…we should go to the beach."

He gives her an odd look. "Do I need to list the thousand and one reasons why that is a terrible idea?"

"Look, I just was just suggesting something fun. I mean, we've gone out in public before-"

"Only because we needed to renegotiate the terms of our relationship. Said meeting was held on reasonably neutral ground at a time when observers would be few and far between. This is _completely_ different and you know it."

She's startled and feels a little angry at his rebuttal. "What's the matter? Scared of a little sunlight? Or are you ashamed of being seen with me?"

His tone is condescending. "Ashamed? You honestly think I'm _ashamed_? Far from it. I'm just thinking sensibly." He gives her an incredulous look. "What do you think will happen when a throng of Republic City's citizens see the Avatar lounging on the sand with a mysterious gentleman right next to her?"

"I can say that you're my uncle, just like las-"

"Except last time we could slip in and out with some measure of anonymity. This time we'll be in full view of a more observant public. People will take pictures and there will be gossip and the curious will tell the even more curious who will make inquiries and discover that the Avatar does not have an uncle fitting my description either as a member of her family or as a respected elder. It's a _stupid_, stupid, idea. Honestly, I don't know how you can be so-"

She's surprised to feel the stinging in her eyes, because this is the kind of analytical crap she _knows_ he's capable of, and she's fallen victim to his incredible thoughtfulness far too many times for her liking. She knows this.

But he wasn't supposed to do this _here._ The apartment is supposed to be a place for building up, not tearing down.

_If you didn't want to go, you could've just said no and left it there._

She sees a flicker of understanding cross Amon's face as he realizes that he's pushed too far. "Korra," he begins, reaching for her shoulder.

But she's already sliding out the bed and grabbing her undergarments from off the floor. "You're right: it was a dumb idea." She blinks until the stinging subsides. "Gonna take a shower. I'll try not to use all the hot water."

She goes into the small room, turns the handle, waits until the temperature is right and then stands motionless underneath the stream from the shower head.

When the stinging returns, she doesn't suppress it.

* * *

Later that afternoon she's lying on top of a beach towel with the screams and shouts of hundreds of people echoing around her.

Asami lies on the ground next to her. She had promised her friend a girls-day-out and she was **long** overdue on that promise.

"I have to say, it's nice not being cooped up in the Air Temple," sighs the heiress, wriggling appreciatively in the hot sun.

She laughs in response.

It's hard not to notice the people staring at them. She's still hasn't gotten used to it, though when she looks over at Asami it seems as though _she_ is blissfully unaware of the prying eyes.

Then again, Asami has had _way_ more practice at this than she has.

Some people come up to her to express their admiration, to ask for autographs, for blessings, for wisdom, for relationship advice (as if she's in any position to be giving people good advice about love).

Other people want to have debates - about philosophy, about the nature of bending, about the war.

At first it's just one or two at a time, but eventually a crowd begins to gather around her and Asami, and the din starts to become unbearable.

When a clique of teenage benders make some unkind remarks about Asami (and her father), she's had enough of all the nonsense. She came to the beach to enjoy herself, not be the arbiter of everyone else's issues.

She bends the assembled body thigh deep into the sand.

"Oh…_wow_," murmurs an awestruck Asami.

_Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best course of action, _she admits to herself,_ but fuck it. I don't have the patience or the will to deal this_. "Look people - citizens - whatever. I came here to spend time with my _friend_." She glares extra hard at the teenage brats. "A friend who is good and kind and has been through a lot lately – and frankly, so have I." She gives the brats another glare. "I'm not here to deal with your problems, to be your savior or your punching bag or some fountain of wisdom. Not today, anyway," she adds hastily.

She bends the crowd out of the ground. "So please, **leave us alone_._**"

The crowd quickly disperses, and afterwards there is a conspicuous berth of bare sand between her, Asami and the rest of the beachgoers.

"Well there's no way that little incident won't make the papers," she sighs frustratedly.

Asami runs a hand up and down her back. "It's alright, Korra. Things happen. And you weren't wrong in wanting some privacy." She turns to stare at the water. "It's easy to forget that we're, you know…_people_. That just because we have power or money or fame doesn't mean that we don't want the same things as others, the same respect, the same right to have secrets." She flushes. "I guess in some ways, I'm jealous of you. You've had the seclusion of the White Lotus compound, of Air Temple Island…"

"Seclusion?" She snorts. "Tell that to all my guards. But considering what happened with Aang," she adds, "I can see why the Order went a little overboard. At least I've been fortunate enough that my guards have my best interests at heart. Once you're outside the walls, though…" she lets her sentence trail off.

"I completely understand," replies Asami, tugging at her shoulder. "And that's why I made sure to put my bodyguards to good use. One in particular," says adds with a grin.

"Oh really?" she responds with a coquettish smile. "Something else we have in common."

"Korra!" Asami's voice is tinged with mock horror.

"I'll tell you mine, you tell me yours."

"Deal," says an intrigued Asami, sitting upright.

"All right," she begins fondly. "We first met when I was thirteen but didn't get involved until two years later. His name was Howl…"

* * *

She decides that they should go swimming in the bay, mainly because Asami's back is starting to hurt (but it doesn't matter because her tan is _flawless_). At first all they do is splash and swim on the surface, but Asami deserves something special, and as the Avatar she better damn well deliver.

She suddenly yanks her friend off the sea floor, bends an air bubble around them both and carries them out into deeper water.

At first Asami freaks out (understandably) – both because she's underwater and because she wasn't exactly asked about this beforehand. But once they get far enough out that the water clears up and the marine life on the ocean floor becomes visible to the naked eye, Asami's fear appears to vanish and she can do nothing but babble excitedly about everything around her.

The Avatar can't help but enjoy the warm feeling that glows in her chest.

When she finally pulls them out of the water, the beach has gotten much emptier and the setting sun sets the twilight sky ablaze with red and orange.

Asami audibly shakes out her hair with a wet smack. "I should probably get going. I promised Mako that'd we'd meet downtown for sushi." She shakes her hips. "I might not even change. That'll get his attention."

She looks at Asami, pictures Mako with a bug-eyed expression on his face, and laughs.

"You can hang on to my beach towel," says Asami. "You could probably use more stuff for the apartment anyways, and I packed a spare in the car. Stay safe. And thanks again for this afternoon – unexpected, spontaneous, and wonderful." She waves and runs off.

_Well all in all this was a pretty good day_, she thinks as she cheerfully heads back to her patch of towels. _Oh, I hope no one stole my stuff. Asami and I were gone for a pretty long time._

As she approaches the towels, she notices a figure sitting on top of them, and a bucket propped up in the sand. When she gets close enough to recognize the mystery person's facial features, she stops and considers turning around and leaving the bastard right where he is before deciding to hear him out.

She strolls up to Amon and gives him her fiercest side-eye. "I'm still mad at you," she says.

"And you have every right to be," he says quietly.

"You're on my towels."

"So I am."

"How did you know I was here?"

"Something I heard over the rumor mill. I took the liberty of coming down here myself, seeing as there are only two people in Republic City who know my face, and I can disguise my voice well enough. It was easy to locate you and Ms. Sato, but I decided to keep my distance. When you left for your swim a man came over – I don't know what his allegiances were – and tried to pee over your belongings. I managed to scare him off and figured I should remain here in case others tried to vandalize or steal your possessions. As it happens-" He reaches into the bucket and pulls out two crabs. "-I also found time to catch these. There are plenty more, actually. I thought we could eat them for dinner."

She looks around her spot. "I don't see a fire anywhere," she remarks casually.

Amon looks sheepishly at her, and she instantly understands what he'd intended. "So bending is bad unless your girlfriend can use it to cook food for you anywhere." She starts to stomp off.

"Korra, wait!" Amon says, leaping to his feet. "That's not…I mean, yes, I had hoped you'd be willing to firebend-"

"Bye."

"No, please, just listen to me-"

His tone of regret is just enough to make her turn around and face him.

He runs a hand through his hair. "I was…I was out of order this morning. Not that what I said was wrong, mind you." He flinches when her eyelid twitches. "But there was no need for me to be so malicious in my saying it. And for that, I am truly sorry. So I came out here with food. And apologies."

She stares at him long and hard before slowly reaching into the bucket and pulling out a crab. "I hear that Bay crabs aren't that good. But since you went through all the effort…" She puts both hands around the struggling animal; after seven seconds it goes still and steam begins to rise from under its shell.

"Thank you, Ko-"

"Don't thank me yet. I'm only doing this because it'd be a shame to waste all this meat, its origins notwithstanding." She dumps the remaining crab onto the sand and jerks her head towards the ocean. "Grab some more seawater. Once I've cooked all the crab, I'll boil out the salt and we'll having something to drink and cool our mouths."

* * *

She rips the shell off of her fourth crab and dives hungrily into the sweet flesh; she grabs a little of the salt leftover from the boiling and uses it to season her food.

"You know, this actually tastes a lot better than I imagined." She turns to look at Amon; he's still on his second crab, eating quietly and deliberately. "So," she asks, halting briefly to lick her fingers, "aside from groveling for forgiveness at your girlfriend's feet, was there any other reason you decided to show?"

He glances at his pasty complexion. "To be frank, I could use a little more color in my skin. Being underground for the better part of two decades has not helped in that regard."

"I like it when you're frank with me," she admits. "But being frank doesn't mean you have to be a jerk. I mean, I'm not some fragile piece of pottery or something, but you can be a real _asshole_ sometimes. It's not necessary. And, as much as I appreciate your frankness, don't remind me of how old you are." She wrinkles her nose. "I don't like feeling like I'm jailbait."

"You hardly qualified as jailbait when we first slept together…_maybe_ by Republic City standards, but not by Water Tribe standards. Traditions are changing, of course, but by all rights your father would've married you off long before now." His face flushes with embarrassment. "Not that...perhaps I should retreat from this line of conversation." He takes a swallow that seems much larger than the bite of crab that just went in his mouth. "Korra, are you… are you ashamed of being with someone my age?"

"Yes, Amon," she interrupts, giving a fake sigh of regret. "I'm ashamed of having a hot, dumb, older man who's madly in love with me and great in bed. I'm completely **not** ashamed of having a boyfriend who thinks that being older, wiser and slightly less powerful than me gives him the right to be a jerk."

"Fair enough," he chuckles. "But I'm only 'great' in bed? I must be losing my touch," he says jokingly.

"Well, I'm sure you'll get back to 'exceptional' with time."

"Perhaps we could-" he says brightly.

"Uh uh. One, I'm still mad at you. Two, because of point one, I am in no mood to deal with sand in my-"

"You could get on top? Wouldn't that avoid the problem?"

"Point one." She wags her finger at him.

"Point taken." He stands up, grabbing the bucket and the towels as he does so. "Do I have to sleep on the floor?"

"No. But no cuddles. And no sex until I say so."

"How will I survive?!" says Amon with a twinkle in his eye.

She makes an up-and-down motion just in front of his groin. "Now that's just cruel," he groans.

She winks at him. "Deal with it."

They start to head for the road.

"You know, I really am glad we came to the beach," he says.

She gives him a skeptical eyebrow.

"Alright, maybe this time doesn't count." He smiles at her. "Something to look forward to, then."

She smacks him in the face with a crab claw. "I'll hold you to that."

* * *

**Author's notes: **Because we are at the point in the story where Amon has to deal with his shit (because now both Korra and Amon are in mental space where they can actually and honestly contribute to the discussion), this is the second chapter in a row where this happens: Amon screws up/Amon actually gets called on his shit/Amon apologies/Amon tries to get better. While it may seem broken-recordish, keep in mind that we've actually dealt with two different issues: first, his controlling nature and now (some of) his intellectual dickishness. We've got one more to go - his emotional intimacy issues (though as of right now I've not planned for any Amon screwups in the next chapter. There will definitely be screwing though, heh heh).

**Side note:** in "Are You Gonna Eat That?" canon Korra and Howl never got around to intercourse because of mutual concerns on both sides but they _pretty_ much did everything else (and though I'm not gonna say it one way or the other, Howl might give better head than Amon. Might.)

As always, reviews, constructive criticism, suggestions, feedback of any kind is welcome.


	16. Sea Prunes (Part 1)

**Author's note: **There is a fair bit of Lieumon (and a rather slashy dream) in this chapter, FYI.

_**Dreams are funny things, you know.**_

* * *

He's used to having the lights on when he sleeps, but there's something unnerving about the glow of Republic City filtering through the apartment windows; it seems...unnatural, ironically enough.

Korra is sound asleep and drooling into the pillows, but he finds it oddly endearing. He strokes her cheek and she mumbles something unintelligible in her unconsciousness.

He smiles sadly.

_I love her. I really do._

He just wishes he wasn't so terrible at saying it. Not just saying it, but _doing_ it – being _in _love – love as an action, not just a thought or feeling. Having the trust that supposedly comes naturally with being in love.

_I can't even trust her with my name - my _real _name_, he thinks.

_ **We both can think of several reasons why that's a bad idea.  
**_

_I don't care about whether it's "wise" or "strategic." It's my _name. _After all that's happened between us, she's _more_ than earned it._

And yet, he still stays silent.

And not for the first time.

His intimacy problems have reared their collective heads in all of his relationships (romantic or otherwise), and he has never really stopped to examine and confront the reasons for his problems.

**_Your father was a monster who didn't love you._**

_Thank you for stating the obvious_, he replies, rolling his eyes.

But to be perfectly honest, love _wasn't_ the issue. He had received an abundance of love from his mother; he had learned how he _should_ treat other people, how to love other people from her. But despite his mother's warm heart and generous nature, he had never really connected with her on an emotional level, at least not in the way that Tarrlok had.

The issue was definitely Yakone, but it wasn't that his father was without love, but that he'd taught Noatak to disdain love, to disregard it.

* * *

_"Love and sentiment are weaknesses you can't afford to have. But boys, you must always take the opportunity to exploit love in other people." Yakone chuckled. "The things people will do for love…it's astounding."_

_"But what about mamae?" asked a confused Tarrlok. "You tell her you love her all the time."_

_"I…care about your mother_," _answered Yakone unconvincingly. "Deeply. In my own special way. I tell her I love her because she wants to hear it, and I get so much in return." He grinned at their perplexed expressions. "But you'll figure that out when you're older."_

_And that was before Yakone forced bloodbending on them._

* * *

Now his brother was rotting in a cell beneath Republic City – and **he'd **put him there.

_"Love and sentiment are weaknesses you can't afford to have."_

He'd wondered a great deal about what drove Tarrlok to kidnap Korra. Had he succumbed to the "weaknesses" that their father had railed against, and had merely panicked when his life was threatened? Or was Tarrlok haunted by the same demons found in Noatak's own soul, and had lashed out in anger when he realized that Korra refused to be manipulated any longer.

He suspected that as things currently stood he'd never get an answer: all attempts to converse with Tarrlok were met with angry silence, and aside from the initial outburst when he'd rescued her, Korra never said another word about the incident either.

He looks down at the young woman in his bed and marvels at how one man has managed to wreck so much chaos and devastation from beyond the grave.

He nestles down beside Korra and closes his eyes.

_Family_. _What a nightmare_, he thinks as sleep overtakes him.

* * *

In the morning he goes to the weekly Equalist planning meeting, and it's nothing but good news: all the new pilots for the planes and mechs are trained; their spy in the United Forces had recently been promoted and had convinced her superiors to organize a two-week naval exercise in waters well away from Republic City; furthermore, the disparate cells in the Fire Nation capital and Ba Sing Se were coordinating to stage massive attacks that would end the war games and send the fleets scattered about the world; Amon's branch would seize control of Republic City and by the time what UF troops could be spared arrived to retake the city, the Equalists would already have an impeccable defense and a host of civilians to make an assault incredibly difficult for the opposing army.

And in the midst of all the chaos, benders would be disabled, captured and brought before Amon to be cleansed.

He feels ecstatic. That _is_ the feeling coursing through his body and _certainly_ not regret, because feeling regret at this juncture would be _highly_ inappropriate and entirely counterproductive.

_I'm really going to lose Korra, _he thinks soberly.

**_I seem to remember that both of you were perfectly fine with that outcome. In fact, you've both made the same assertion of that fact on many occasions._**

_Things were...different then. _

**_Really? Because I'm not seeing much difference between you two's stupidity then and your stupidity now-_**

"_That's enough from you!"_ he yells, and then realizes his last sentence was not a silent thought but a rather public exclamation.

The assembled parties stare at him, and the poor boy from the engineering department who'd just been speaking has a look of shame on his face.

"I'm sorry everyone, I just-" His affinity for lying suddenly deserts him. "I was having an internal debate, and I became overly irate with my sparring partner."

He's relieved when he receives quite a few nods of understanding (and even some chuckles) from around the table.

"We'll adjourn for the time being. Meetings will now be held every three days until the week of, and then they'll be daily." His talent for lying suddenly returns. "I have many matters to resolve before our target date. I may not be able to attend all the planning sessions. Rest assured that the Lieutenant will be present and is authorized to speak on my behalf should I be absent. Meeting adjourned."

Everyone stands up and bows to him in awkward, fragmented little groups before filing out of the meeting room, closing the door behind them. Only the Lieutenant remains behind.

"That's quite the vote of confidence, naming me your proxy in your absence," says Lieu, casually folding his arms across his chest.

"It shouldn't surprise you, nor is it out of order. "

"I never said anything to that effect," counters the Lieutenant. "Like I said, it's quite the vote of confidence." He frowns. "Sir...what are you going to tell the Avatar?"

He freezes.

The Lieutenant sighs and unfolds his arms. "Sir, please tell me you have an exit strategy."

Silence.

"By the spirits you've really fallen for her haven't you?"

To his surprise, there is no disapproval or contempt in Lieu's voice, only concern and amazement.

"I'll deal with it." _Somehow,_ he adds silently.

"Sir, are you going to have a prob-"

"I said I'll deal with it," he growls.

The Lieutenant gives a stiff bow. "Yes sir. Permission to be dismissed, sir. "

"Granted," he says, waving the other man away.

As he watches the Lieutenant walk to the door, he thinks about the previous night, and his attempts to try and identify the source of his problems with Korra, and he remembers everything that went wrong with the Lieutenant, and how part of him still wishes it hadn't gone the way it did.

When the impulse to make amends seizes him, he listens to it.

"Wait," he says, walking over to his second-in-command and clasping his hands within his own.

Lieu blushes reflexively. "Sir?" he asks nervously.

"I have been feeling...retrospective, of late. I've been thinking about certain things...certain people." He pauses to take a deep breath. "I want to apologize. About us. The way things went, and the way things ended." He moves one hand to Lieu's cheek. "I know you loved me. I _wanted_ to love you back, to completely share myself with you...but it's in my nature to manipulate the emotions of others, not indulge in them myself. I used you. I used you and in doing so hurt you and could've hurt the Equalist movement as well. I wouldn't have blamed you for walking away. You came for the cause but you stayed because of me. I can't betray that trust again."

The silence that follows feels painfully long and he can't read the Lieutenant's expression. Finally, it cracks into a hopeful smile.

"I was wrong about her," says Lieu softly. "You're much less of an emotional brick than you used to be." He heads for the door, but stops his hand on the wood before he can swing it open. "I can probably stretch things by a week, but no more than that," says Lieu. "I'll make the usual bureaucratic excuses. Three weeks to say goodbye sir. Make the most of them." He leaves and closes the door behind him.

_Three weeks,_ he laments. _Three weeks to say goodbye._

Still, talking with the Lieutenant...he feels..._better_. It's a nice feeling.

He hopes it'll last.

* * *

_That night, he has __**the**__ dream. _

_It's the dream where his slippery hands can't get a grip on anything around him, the dream where calloused fingers run lovingly against his sides, the dream where a moustache tickles against his ear, where a stiff cock slides in and out of his body and he is left boneless and breathless._

_It's the dream where he is scared stiff, yet he feels completely safe in the embrace of the man above him._

_"It's all right," Lieu whispers in one ear. "I'm here for you. Let me take care of you."_

_And then Korra suddenly appears under him, her body warm and wet around him, her skin like silk against his own, her muscles squeezing him ever closer to ecstasy.  
_

_"Let **us** take care of you," she whispers in the other ear.  
_

___And the feeling inside him gets brighter and hotter until-_

* * *

He catapults off the bed feeling hot, sweaty and agitated.

He'd occasionally had dreams about Lieu after the breakup, but never since getting with Korra. And he had never, _ever_ entertained the thought of having both of them at the same time.

_**More like both of them having **_**you _at the same time._**

He looks over at Korra and the guilt pounces. _I shouldn't be dreaming about a past lover when I'm in bed with my current one._

**_In bed, maybe not. In _****bed, ****_on the other hand, and you might have a problem._**

_You're so helpful,_ he responds with as much sass as he can summon in his drowsy, disoriented state.

And it's not just the guilt that's bothering him: his erection strains painfully against the waistline of his trousers.

**_Well…aren't you going to take care of that?_**

_Go…away…_ is his mortified reply.

Thankfully there is no further "advice" from the spirit on his shoulder (or wherever in/on/around his body that annoying bastard makes its home).

Still, he quietly gets out of bed and retreats into the privacy of the bathroom.

He tries to keep his thoughts firmly on Korra.

* * *

Breakfast is a muted affair; toasted bread and sea prune juice (because _someone _promised to go shopping and forgot, probably because she's never had to shop for food a day in her life – or wasn't even _allowed_ to go food shopping, he realizes sadly).

He watches as Korra attacks her portion of bread, sniffs the prune juice, takes a sip and grimaces.

"You know, I generally like this better when it's fruit."

"It still tastes the same," he says, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but…the texture is all wrong when you mush it up into juice. I like them whole. And covered in chocolate." There's a dreamy look in her eyes. "Those are the best."

"Now you're not just a member of the bending elite, but a food snob as well." He raises his arms in mock distress. "I've unleashed a monster."

He decides not to mention that chocolate-covered sea prunes are a favorite of his as well.

"Judging from the noise you were making last night, I'm not the one who unleashed a monster."

He fumbles his drinking cup and it falls to the floor, spilling juice everywhere.

"I…I…" All the blood rushes to his face.

"That was quite the dream you were having," she says, casually taking another sip of her juice. "I figured I shouldn't disturb you, pretended to still be asleep."

"You saw-"

"You weren't in the bathroom very long. Man, I must've been _goooo_-" He tries not to look guilty, but she sees his shifting eyes and her own narrow in response. "You weren't thinking about me, were you?"

"Yes! Well, no. You were _there_, but..." The words spill out of his mouth. "I'm sorry, I don't even know why; I swear, it ended ages ago-"

"Amon-"

"I was having a conversation yesterday and I was thinking about_ things_ and...I suddenly just wanted – no, _needed_ to clear the air-"

"Who-"

"And then last night I had the dream out of _nowhere_, and I certainly wasn't expecting…Korra, I _swear_ to you, I have _no_ interest in resuming-"

But then her eyes light up and the scowl turns into a triumphant smile. "You were totally dreaming about the Lieutenant, weren't you?"

He covers his face in embarrassment. "Oh, _hell_."

"I knew it! I fucking knew it!" She pumps a fist in victory. "I've always gotten a weird vibe from him, and now I know why. It's the 'oh crap, I have to work with my ex-boyfriend every single day even though I still secretly pine for him' vibe." She stops abruptly. "That's a little too close to home, actually."

"Wait, what?" he says, temporarily gaining a foothold.

"This conversation is all about _you_," she says, shutting him down with a pointed finger. "_Talk_."

"About?"

"You and him."

"_What?_"

She stares at him expectantly.

"This isn't…I don't think…"

"We could talk about the dre-"

"_Fine._"

He takes a deep breath.

"We met early on, him and me. It was in Ba Sing Se, about five or six years after I left home."

"Why'd you leave home?"

_To lie, or be honest?_

He decides that in the interest of brevity he'd tell her the truth.

"My father was a bastard," he begins. "He was cold, cruel, controlling. One day he pushed too far, and after having a fight, I left. But he'd already left his mark in more ways than one." _You're saying too much, Noa. Pull it back._ "The Lieutenant was with me when I planted the first seeds of what would eventually become the Equalist movement. For the first decade or so I kept myself a whisper, a rumor, a shadow. He was one of the few tangible and lasting relationships I had. As the movement grew he began to admire me, though not without cause, and I him – soon that admiration turned to love." His face falls. "Well, at least on his part. When he eventually worked up the courage to ask for a physical relationship, not just a working one, I…did not object."

"So what was it like?"

"Spirits, woman, do I _really_ have to tell you this?"

"_Yes_," was her insistent reply.

"It was…it satisfied certain needs. Other needs remained unsatisfied – the emotional ones. I have since been forced to confront those deficiencies in our own relationship, and I suspect my conversation with the Lieutenant yesterday had a much greater impact than I anticipated."

"What was it about?"

"It was an apology…I expressed regret for the way I conducted myself – emotionally – during our time together."

"So what happened in the dream?"

"Korra, _please_."

"I'm not going to judge you. I promise."

He struggles to compose himself. "You were under me, on your back." (She rolls her eyes.) "He was…behind me. He was…well, you can probably guess. I couldn't get a grip on anything, everything was just too sweaty and-" He squints at Korra's expression, because her eyes look glassy and far away, but he blinks and they're clear and focused again. "It was…strange. _Good_ strange. I mean, I had plenty of those dreams when we were together but not since we ended that part of our relationship." He clenches his hands, moving his fingers up and down against his palms. "It was mostly hands and mouths for us – well, mostly my hands and mouth," he admits. "I would occasionally indulge him in intercourse, but...I was always the giver." He unclenches his hands and stares at them. "I needed to feel like I had control at all times. Having control helped me keep my emotions out of the equation."

"So in the dream you feel-"

"Vulnerable. Exposed. Scared out of my wits. Not just physically, but emotionally. I was _trusting_." He pauses momentarily. "My father taught me that such feelings are a weakness and only to be used as a tool to exploit things I want from other people. I am never supposed to succumb to them myself." He smiles weakly at her. "So much for that, I'm afraid."

Korra sighs, crosses the room and lays her hands on his face. "Look, Amon – we want what we want. We love who we love. And sometimes we want things that are bad _for_ us, and sometimes we love people who are bad _to_ us. I can think of someone who I once thought qualified as that for me." She leans in closer. "But as it turns out, it wasn't a bad thing for me to love you or to want to explore that to the fullest; and in turn, it wasn't bad for you to love the Lieutenant, or to want to explore that love to its fullest. Look," she says with a look of determination on her face, "I get that your father was an asshole and he made your childhood hell. Some of that is never going to go away. But until you try - I mean _really_ try - try until the frustration leaves you in tears at night and your demons spawn a thousand more limbs to keep you down because you're so close to freedom - then you're never gonna master your fears and yourself." She kisses him on the cheek. "But even if you can't completely change that part of you, you _have_ changed, you know. And for what it's worth, even if you don't believe it when you say it - I know you love me. Take comfort in that."

"Thank you, Korra."

He then points to her glass.

"Now finish your juice."

* * *

**Author's note:** To be continued in Part 2!

(Don't worry, I'm not planning to make this an OT3 fic, though it could make an interesting one-shot. Besides, Amorralok is my ultimate LoK OT3 3.)


	17. Sea Prunes (Part 2)

**Author's note:** As a general/courtesy FYI, there is pegging in this chapter (if you don't know what that is, look it up). If that's not your thing (which is totally fine), I'll see you back here for "Lotus Tea" (which is gonna be _hilarious_).

**_Sometimes, the removal of one stick requires the introduction of a second.  
_**

* * *

The first three days are his and Korra's heart-to-heart is uneventful.

The mornings and afternoons are full of planning and plotting, inspections and information.

The nights are full of fun, laughter, and the Avatar (his dreams too).

Then on the fourth day (the fourth night, actually) he is heading back to the apartment and happens upon a Water Tribe novelty store. He notices that the shop carries sea prunes and asks the kindly old man behind the counter if he can get a special order.

An hour later he is climbing the apartment stairs; under his arm is a box of chocolate-covered sea prunes for him and Korra to share (or "share," as he fondly remembers the incident with the grapes in their early days).

When he puts his key in the lock and walks through the door, he is surprised to find a sumptuous spread laid out on the table: a large bowl of Narook's Noodles, several spring rolls, a helping of shrimp, three crabs, an alarmingly large vegetable medley and what looks like saber-tooth moose lion steaks. Two bottles of chilled rice wine are also atop the table.

"Wow," he says, astonished at the bounty lying before him.

"Heh heh," says Korra sheepishly, shifting from one foot to the other as she emerges from her hiding place in the bathroom. "Surprise?"

"Where did all this come from?"

"Your wallet," she confesses with a hesitant grin. "I may have nicked a few yuan while you were in the shower last night."

He locates his billfold, opens it and realizes that Korra's definition of "a few" is rather large.

He glares expectantly at her.

"Okay, so _maybe_ 'a few' yuan is more than that." She waves a dismissive hand. "What does it matter? You can afford it and you know it."

"That is not the point-" But any further admonition is cut off by a sniff and a shriek of delight from the Avatar.

"_Please_ tell me those are chocolate-covered sea prunes," she moans longingly, pointing at the box.

"I don't know, Korra..."

"_Pleaaaaaa-"_

"Yes," he says with a smile. "Yes they are."

"Gimme."

"After dinner."

"You're evil."

"_After dinner._"

"Ugh, _fine._"

* * *

Considering how much food Korra ordered, dinner is a swift and mostly silent affair punctuated only by the sound of Korra inhaling her food at an alarming rate and her furtive glances at the box of sweets.

"Slow down, you're going to make yourself sick," he says concernedly.

"Fno pfin, fno gn," she mumbles through a mouthful of spring roll.

Eventually the noodles, the rolls, two of the crab, half the vegetables and one of the steaks makes it into their stomachs. The untouched shrimp and the leftovers go into the icebox (he'll take them to the meeting tomorrow or drop them by the homeless shelter).

They each have a whole bottle of wine to themselves. Despite the high alcohol content, all the food that's been stuffed into his belly has so far mitigated the wine's effect on his body. Still, he does feel a _little_ tipsy.

The second her plate is clean Korra dives for the box, rips it open and pops two of the fruits into her gaping maw.

He opens his mouth to ask how she can _possibly_ have room for more after eating so much already, but thinks better of it. "Good?" he asks her.

"Smsh. M tryming tuh suhvu fe mumnt," she responds, a rapturous look on her face. She finally swallows. "When I was a kid, I had a really bad case of constipation," she explains. "My mom tried giving me sea prunes and prune juice but I refused both of them. She finally decided to get some chocolate - pretty pricey stuff at the South Pole - and covered the prunes in 'em. I've been addicted ever since." She looks desperately at him. "You _have_ to show me where you got these."

She takes another prune out of the box and gratefully bites into it.

He can't help but laugh. "You're adorable when you're like this."

"Thut up," she says, but the smile tells him otherwise.

* * *

They're now lying on the bed, the both of them stripped down to their underwear, their lips locked together and their hands running gently over each others' bodies like fish in a stream.

The wine has kicked in just a little more, and while he's still coherent, the world has a dreamlike quality to it. They've been in this state for the last half-hour, he realizes, but he is in no hurry to move on just yet. _Maybe things won't go any further tonight. Maybe we'll just stay right here.  
_

Korra pulls back for a moment, her eyes suddenly filled with uncertainty. "I must confess, I had an ulterior motive for dinner."

"That's usually my thing," he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

She punches him in the shoulder. "Please don't. This is hard enough as it is."

"Korra, what's wrong?" he asks, sitting up.

She takes a deep breath. "Do you trust me, Amon?"

"Yes, of course."

"No…I mean, do you trust me? _Really_ trust me?"

"Korra, if there's something about us that's bothering you…"

"Do you believe that I wouldn't intentionally hurt you? That I just want you to feel safe, comfortable and happy around me?"

"Korra, what-"

"Yes or no?"

**_You say "yes," and you might get more than you bargained for._**

_I love her. I've trusted her with the small things, the knowable things-_**_The apartment doesn't count as big or unknowable?_  
**

_My suggestion. My idea. Knowable. Predictable. But if I don't start trusting her with_ _something big, something _unknown, _then I'll never __fully_ learn to trust her at all.

**_Then say yes, and suffer the consequences._**

"…yes Korra. I trust you."

She tugs on the hem of his underwear. "Then take these off, close your eyes, and _stay right there._"

* * *

He sits on the edge of the bed, the cold air of the apartment pressing against his naked body, and waits.

The wait is long and full of trepidation.

He has _no_ idea what Korra is currently doing.

Well, that's not true. He has a _little_ idea what she's doing.

She had rummaged under the bed for a bit, then retreated into the bathroom. He had heard running water at one point, some knocking and a couple muttered curses as well. Then what sounded like pacing, and a little shriek of frustration.

Finally, he hears a creak as the door opens – not by much, judging from how tiny the noise was.

"I'm coming out," comes Korra's voice through the crack. "Keep your eyes closed."

A pause.

"Promise me you won't freak out, okay?"

"Why would I?" He feels more confused than ever.

"Just promise, okay?"

"I promise that I won't freak out."

**_Warned you._**

_Shut it._

He hears a longer creak and the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Okay…open your eyes."

* * *

The first thing he notices is the negligee. Gone are the traditional, modest white wrappings that she so loves to wear. Instead, the Avatar is wearing a brassiere of black silk trimmed with lace; it hugs against her breasts, pushing them up and accentuating her incredible curves. A black garter belt circles around her waist, with four silk straps connecting to the thigh-length silk stockings framing her perfect legs.

The second thing he notices, however, gives him pause: it's the wooden phallus tucked between Korra's legs, the toy held firmly in place by a series of leather straps and leather backing around her pelvis.

His jaw falls and he tries to say something, anything, but his mouth is dry and there's an odd feeling in his abdomen that unnerves him.

"I know what you're probably thinking," babbles Korra. "Spirits, do I know what you're thinking. But please, please just hear me out. Just for a minute."

Words form - jumbled and confused and without meaning - but they stick in his throat.

"I thought about what you said a few days ago – about you and the Lieutenant, and about your dream with both of us – and I thought, 'I know exactly how he feels' – being in love with someone, trusting them with your heart…with your body…sometimes you do feel vulnerable. Exposed. I felt that way a lot in the beginning, with us…I still do sometimes…I mean, there's still so much I don't know about you, and you know everything there is to know about me-"

His manages to find his voice again. "Korra…"

"And then I remembered reading something in a pillow book...about something that some couples do...for fun, I mean, but also as a trust exercise...but I didn't know all the details, so I went to this really neat secret place that Asami mentioned to me and there was a really helpful lady there…I wasn't too specific or anything but...I got…this." She points to the dildo. "And at first I thought I should've asked you, but I figured with the dream and whatnot you were already sort of amenable to the idea...or maybe not..." Her voice gets quiet. "I know it's not the 'real thing,' and maybe that's what you really want instead-"

"Korra, this is _not _about Li-"

"I want you to be okay with what you want. I want you to be okay with _telling_ me what you want." She closes her eyes and flushes red with embarrassment. "And I won't lie to you: the thought of you under me, of me inside you…_fuck __**me**_, I didn't know how badly I wanted it until I knew I did." She fingers her shoulder. "I just wanted to…it's okay to let go. To trust me. To let me take care of you. To let me in." Her eyes widen. "Not like that – well, yes like that – this is not coming out the way the way I'd hoped-"

"I think that line is supposed to come later," he croaks.

It's supposed to be funny, but neither one laughs.

"Spirits, I've made a mistake," Korra murmurs, her eyes watering. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…" She starts heading for the bathroom, tugging at the straps around her legs.

But he remembers the dream, and the strange feeling he felt, and how nice it was to feel safe in the arms of people who loved him.

He gets up from the bed.

"Korra."

Part of him fights to keep the words down, but he forces them out, not just because he means them, but because he knows he'll never be the man she deserves if he can never say them out loud.

"I trust you."

She stops midstride and turns to stare at him with glistening eyes.

"I trust you not to hurt me."

He slowly walks over to her and places his hands on her shoulders, conscious of the wooden cock pressing against his hip.

"I trust you to be loving."

_You can do this Noatak. You _can_ do this._

"_I trust you._"

* * *

He has never been more thankful that Korra is a firebender, because having _cold_ oil running into his ass would've been most unpleasant.

"Is this okay?" she asks nervously from the foot of the bed.

"It's fine, Korra," he responds, his muscles clenching reflexively behind him. He breathes deep into the pillow to calm himself.

Finally the flow of liquid stops. "I think that's enough for now. You can turn back over."

"Would it not be easier-"

"If we're going to do this, we're not going to hide from each other. I want to see your face, and you need to see mine."

He turns over and finds himself face to face with the _thing_ again.

"Oh, sorry," she mumbles.

It wiggles just a little too much, and what sounds like a half pleasured gasp, half curse escapes from Korra's lips. "Too loose, I think," she says hastily. "How do you guys even deal with these things?"

**_She's nervous. If you're really going to do this, make her feel comfortable._**

For once, he doesn't argue.

"We manage," he says, fixated on the reaction she'd had when the phallus moved. "How is this constructed?" he asks.

"This? Well, um…" she fumbles for words. "It's…wood. It's waterproofed, obviously. And there's a knob that goes inside-"

"So if I were to…" He gently pulls back and forth on the dildo, and Korra arches her back in response.

"Yep…I can feel it."

And suddenly he knows exactly what to do.

He slides his legs back and under, now kneeling on his elbows as Korra rests on her knees.

He leans forward.

"What are you-" she starts to ask, but then stops when his mouth slides around the wood.

"_Oh_."

It's wood.

It feels like wood and it tastes like wood.

But he knows what the real thing tastes and feels like, and so he has to make Korra believe that she has the real thing attached to her.

So he pulls and sucks and glides, and hopes that the knob inside her is pressing against all the right places. Korra's breathing gets heavier and her hands slide into his hair; their grip is painful but he knows that's not intentional. She begins to thrust in counterpoint to his movements.

_She's learning._

She suddenly withdraws, the wood scraping harshly against his teeth, and she slides off the bed to catch her breath. "Too much," she says breathlessly. She smiles. "Man, you're really good at that."

"Someday you'll be just as good."

"I would if you let me practice on you more."

There's am awkward pause.

"Well, I suppose…" she says.

"Yes, I think…I think I'm ready," he finishes.

* * *

At first it's one finger, then two fingers, then three, but each one feels like someone is stuffing a buzzardwasp egg up his ass. Korra moves her digits in slow circles until his muscles relax and the strangeness of it all give way to an odd tingling sensation somewhere behind his balls.

"Are you _sure_ you want to do this? Are you ready?"

He nods, though in all honesty he's not entirely sure.

She pours oil all over the wood and brings her hands to rest on his hips.

"Just say the word – any time – and I'll stop."

He nods again.

She scoots forward, lifting his legs up, and he can feel the tip pressing against his entrance.

"Relax, and push out."

It's pressing, it's pressing and then-

"_...fuck._"

His eyes scrunch shut; he wants to fight it, he wants to clamp down and end this and run away, but the voice whispers to him **_it's alright, let her in_** and he realizes that it's not just about the cock in his ass.

So he lets her in, slowly and steadily, with stops and starts, and more oil and a gentle rubbing on his hips, until he feels skin and leather pressed against the back of his thighs and the fullness of it inside him, and he finally musters enough courage to open his eyes and look up at the smiling woman above him.

"It's okay, love," she whispers. "I've got you. You're safe."

* * *

She starts moving unevenly, still unused to having a dick, but she quickly learns how to buck against him, and he in turn learns how to buck against her. He wraps his legs around Korra's waist, his hands bracing on her shoulders like she has done with him so many times before.

It's a profound experience, being on this side of things.

"I…I didn't know…" he gasp. "Is this what you-"

She leans over to kiss him, and the phallus presses something deep inside him, sending a spark through his body that turns the kiss into a strangled moan.

"There," he says harshly. "Do that again."

"Whatever you need," she says. "I've got you."

Korra never takes her eyes off his, not once, and with every passing second he can feel his armor melting away as if the heat surging from his loins to his entire body is burning away all the weight he has carried for so many years.

_I trust you._

Every thrust carries him closer, and closer, and _closer _and it's painful but oh so_ good, and _then she leans forward again and presses _hard_ against him, and everything inside him explodes into a million tiny shards and his body is carried down the familiar river, except it's not; this is something deeper and more intimate than any release he's ever experienced.

He collapses into a sweaty, floppy heap on the bed.

"Holy shit," says a stunned Korra. "_Holy shit._"

"Don't move," he manages to say. "I need a moment to recover."

"…_holy shit._"

Apparently some parts of him needed less recovery time than others. "Was it good for you too?" he jokes.

"…_hol-"_

"Yes, Korra, I know. 'Holy shit,' indeed."

* * *

The toy is carefully removed and set aside on the floor (she'll clean it later), and she wipes the oil and seed from his body with a damp towel before tucking him into bed and settling in beside him.

"You didn't-" he begins.

"This night was about you," she says, softly cutting him off. "My ladybits will calm down soon enough." She strokes his cheek. "What I saw tonight was beautiful. And inspiring. And you should be proud of yourself. And Amon, I know it took a _lot_ for you to-"

"Noatak," he blurts out.

"What?" she asks, sitting up.

"My name is Noatak," he says, idly stroking her collarbone. "Noa to friends and family." He smiles at her. "If a man trusts you enough to fuck him in the ass, then that man should trust you with his name."

"Really?"

"Really really."

"Noa," she repeats softly.

She kisses him on the lips.

"I really like that name."

* * *

**Author's note/tract: _Holy shit,_ **this was the chapter (or chapters, given that I split it) I've been stressing out about the most since I decided to turn this thing from one-shots into a full-blown story.

I decided to make Lieumon canon after much internal debate, because I felt it added an extra dimension to the characters and their relationship (and b/c I ship it - not quite "die for," but I ship it). This meant that I would have to address said relationship in ways big and small (because many of the issues that Noatak had with Korra are the same he had with Lieu). But while dealing with the romantic aspects of the relationship was a piece of cake, I was then faced with the problem of how to characterize their sexual relationship, since I wanted Korra to be the one to "deflower" Amon as it were (cuz I'm a romantic like that, lol). Now it's true that intercourse is not a part of every romantic/sexual relationship...but this _is_ a smut fic, and power bottom!Amon is easily one of the most delicious (potential) dynamics of the Lieumon ship.

*coughs*

...anyways.

So I decided to tie Noatak's lack of experience in that particular aspect of his sexual life to his trust/control/emotional issues, which as of now have pretty much all been dealt with. It also gives greater weight/context to the act of Korra pegging Noatak, which I had planned to do anyways back in the one-shots days (it was originally part of a three-shot miniseries, with some cucumber foodplay in part one, a much more lighthearted version of the "Apples" as part two, and the pegging chapter as the finale).

The trick was then figuring how to write the whole shebang as "Noatak is cool with dudes/assplay but has always been afraid to trust people with himself" without it being construed as "Noatak (and/or the author by proxy) is secretly a homophobic douchebag who thinks buttstuff is icky because 'GAAAY.'" Hopefully I got the tone right. If I _didn't _get it right, feel free to yell at me (see below).

tl;dr - This chapter was a big writing hump and I am **thrilled** to be over it.

As always: read, review, comment, yell about my mistakes (constructively), give ALL THE FEEDBACK. My thanks to everyone who has been reading or is starting to read. I _really _appreciate all of you.


	18. Lotus Tea

**Author's note: **For anyone who opted to skip the previous chapter (totally fine), Amon finally tells Korra his real name, so henceforth she will refer to him as such (depending as the author wills).

**_Guess who's coming to dinner?_**

* * *

She races up the stairs; her legs are aching and she's lost her hair tie, but this is an emergency and there's no time to waste.

She fumbles with the key and spends what seems like an eternity fighting with the lock before the door opens and she tumbles across the threshold.

Noatak is lying on the bed, engrossed in the Republic City Times.

"Oh, thank the spirits you're here," she pants. "I was worried I'd have to run halfway across the city to one of the underground entraces."

"Korra, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

"Tenzin knows," she says breathlessly.

Noa's skin goes even paler than it's normal shade.

"_What?!_" he shouts. "How did he even-"

"Because it's one thing for me to be home late, and another thing to not come home entirely. I told Tenzin that Asami offered me a place to hang if I was ever out late in the city, and that I've just been using it more and more. Obviously he didn't trust my story."

"So how did-"

"He had me followed! Tenzin actually had me followed! And it was one of the White Lotus guards too!"

"You've always said that your guards are incompetent."

"Incompetent at keeping me _inside _my prison walls. I never bothered worrying about them once I was out." She angrily blows a few strands of hair from her eyes. "Besides, the incompetence remark was about the guards in general. **A **guard is much more dangerous." She scratches her head. "Bastard saw us meet at the zoo and caught us stealing a kiss. Tenzin was raving about tongue action or some nonsense-"

Noa is suddenly in front of her, his hands digging into her upper arms. "Korra, how much did this person see? Did he see everything?"

"I'm pretty sure he would've told Tenzin that we sneaked into the penguin trainers' supply room and fucked like jackalopes if he'd known about it."

"…I meant did he see my face."

"…oh. That. No, I don't think so." He gives a relieved gasp. "I asked Tenzin what this 'mystery boyfriend' of mine looked like and he didn't have a good answer."

"Thank the spirits. That's…oddly fortuitous, actually. Still, one mustn't question the universe when it grants you small favors."

"Don't thank the universe just yet." She takes a deep and nerve-wracking breath.

"Tenzin wants to meet you. And...and I think we should do it."

Words seem to have failed Noatak. All he can do gape at her like a dead fish at market.

"I know. It's a monumentally stupid idea," she says exasperatedly. "But if we don't throw him a bone or something then he's going to send more guards to follow us around, and I can't have them discovering the apartment or even worse, finding out who you really ar-"

And then she hears a weird sound and she realizes – _he's actually laughing. _

He laughs so hard that the force of it causes him to double over and his eyes start to water.

_What the fuck is he thinking?_

Finally, Noa stops laughing and wipes his eyes. "Oh, this is far too good an opportunity to waste." There's a mischievous glint in his eyes (though it might just be the tears). "Tell the councilman I humbly accept his most gracious invitation. Two days hence. Eight o'clock or half-past, if possible."

"I can't believe we're actually going to do this," she mumbles, turning away from him in disbelief.

"Sneak into your enemy's home once, shame on me. Get personally invited the second time-"

But she doesn't think this is funny at all, so she pounces on him and they wrestle until they end up on their backs next to each other.

"It's _really_ not funny," she says, turning to face him. "We're playing with fire here." She sits up. "How do you think Tenzin would feel if he finds out I'm in love with the man who's trying to destroy his father's legacy? Oh, don't give me that look; it hurts, but it's the truth. Yeah, Tenzin can be stuffy and rigid, but he's got a good heart and he's been a decent mentor towards me. I'm never gonna be the perfect Avatar – nor do I want to be – but I do want to make him proud, if only for Aang's sake."

"You're right." Noatak grabs her hand and brings it to his lips. "This isn't just about us and this isn't something to be done lightly." He kisses her hand again. "But I do want to meet him. 'Know thy enemy' and all."

"You know what? I honestly don't care _why_ you come as long as you're there. But you'll _behave_. No equalizing."

She sniffs under her arms and makes a face. "Ugh, I smell disgusting."

"Did you run all the way from Air Temple Island?"

"Don't remind me." She sniffs again. "It's a shame you can only waterbend the sweat and not the stink out of clothes. Well, _you_ can't." He wrinkles his nose. "You know what I mean."

She gets up from the bed and heads for the bathroom, stripping away her musty clothes en route. "I'll be out in five or so."

"Five minutes usually means fifteen with you." He grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it up over his head, revealing his pale but well-toned abs. "I'd better come and keep you company. You'll be in there forever without someone to help you keep the time."

"Jerk," she mutters, but as they step into the shower together she has a big grin on her face.

After a thorough scrubbing, a soothing head massage and toe-curling, hit-it-from-behind wall sex with her boyfriend, she exits bathroom.

Thirty minutes later.

* * *

The night arrives.

And he's late.

Noatak _set_ the time and the date for dinner and he's _late_.

Forget about what Tenzin might do; she is going to kill the bastard herself.

At 40 minutes past the hour a nondescript looking satomobile parks just in front of the docks, and out steps Noatak, stunningly dressed in a black and red dinner suit (_which fits _very_ well on him_, she notes).

But he's done something to his face – one of his eyes looks glassy, and there are two scars on his right cheek.

"_Where. The fuck. Have you been_?" she hisses.

"Traffic," he says irritably. "Some earthbender thought he'd amuse himself by making the main road his personal race track – complete with obstacles. It took ages to properly clear the roads and make it through the resulting backup." He doesn't bother hiding the disdain in his voice.

"And what's with all this shit?" she adds, pointing to his disguise.

"The eye is just a fake lens, the scars well done makeup, as you know. It's designed, ironically, to make me distinctive. People will remember the deformities but not the face beneath them." He pauses at her labored expression. "You…find my preparations excessive?"

She takes a deep breath and tries to calm down. "I'm sorry love, it's just…I wish you could dress like that more often. When you're out with me. Just me."

He kisses her forehead. "Maybe one day soon."

"Now, now," she chuckles sadly, "you know I hate it when you lie to me."

She pats her back.

"Come on. I told Tenzin I'd bring you over."

"You want me to ride on your back. All the way to the island. You have _got _to be joking."

"Think of it as payback for all the times I've ridden you."

"I don't recall ever complaining about _those_ rides."

"On," she demands. "Or would you rather I carry you in my arms the entire way?"

"Oh please," he sniffs. "You're athletic, but not that athletic. Besides, it would not fit the dignified air I hope to cultivate with the councilman."

"Oh, good," she says, summoning her most maniacal grin. "Carry it is, then."

And as she scoops him up in her arms and zooms out onto the water, the yelling starts and doesn't stop until they're on the rocky shores of Air Temple Island.

* * *

"Welcome to my home," says Tenzin, giving Noatak a stiff bow. "I am honored to play host to such an important guest."

His expression and tone show that he is anything but.

The four White Lotus guards on either side of him don't scream "welcome" either.

_Oh, if you only knew_, she thinks silently.

"I am honored to be here, Councilman," responds Noa as he gives a respectful bow. "You are most gracious to extend to me the hospitality of this island."

"I heard some commotion as you approached…I trust that everything is alright?" Tenzin's eyes narrow.

"Korra – sorry, sir – _the Avatar_ and I disagreed on the manner in which I was to be transported here."

"I carried him in my arms," she interjects. "He thought I couldn't do it, and then complained about how it 'wasn't manly' the whole way over."

Tenzin raises a disapproving eyebrow.

_Well this is going well_, she thinks sourly.

"Councilman, the Avatar has told me much about this place and the work you have been doing in your father's name," says Noatak, smoothly and effortlessly regaining control of the situation. "I am curious to see the fruits thereof. Could you – _would_ you, I mean – if I am not overstepping my bounds, sir-"

Tenzin's expression softens, and her danger instincts kick in.

"I don't know that that's a good idea," she says warily. "We're already running so late-"

"It's alright, Korra," says Tenzin, cracking a smile for the first time. "I always welcome the opportunity to educate others about the traditions we are trying to preserve here. If you'll follow me, please." He beckons for Noatak to follow him.

She shares a knowing look with the Equalist leader, and catches a familiar twitch at the corner of his mouth; it's the closest he gets to grinning in situations where grinning is inappropriate.

Tenzin gives Noatak a surprisingly detailed tour: the dormitories (Tenzin's voice upticks when mentioning that men and women have separate quarters), the gardens, the training grounds, the meditation pavilion, the main house and all its facilities. Noatak is the consummate tourist, always respectful of the objects around him, making well-received observations and posing engaging questions.

If she wasn't sure that he was simply filing all that information away in case he had to storm the island (**_what do you mean, "in case?"_**), she would've been proud of him.

They reach the doors to Tenzin's private quarters, and the airbender dismisses the four White Lotus guards. _Obviously he thinks they've done their job – intimidation, _she reasons. _The only problem is that I've told Noa too many stories. He knows what little they're actually capable of._

Still, she's grateful that the guards won't be there in the dining room.

Things will be awkward enough without their presence.

* * *

They arrange themselves around the table, where a modest meal and clay tea set has been laid out.

"A blend of the white lotus," says Tenzin, grabbing the tea pot and pouring all three of them a cup. "The flower is native to the mountains the Air Nomads once lived on. Avatar Aang worked extremely hard to cultivate them here in the city."

Noatak raises his beverage with both hands and gives a little nod towards Tenzin before bringing the drinking vessel to his lips.

She looks awkwardly at her own cup and then sips her tea; the hot liquid burns her tongue, but it tastes _wonderful_.

"Where's Pema?" she asks as she carefully takes another sip.

"In trying to put Rohan to bed, Pema inadvertently fell asleep herself," explains Tenzin. "Since I would probably wake both of them if I tried to get her up, I decided to let her sleep. I hope you don't mind, Korra."

_Of course I mind,_ she thinks desperately._ I was counting on her to run interference, keep you distracted. At least I convinced Asami to take Bolin and Mako into town for the night without telling her why. Dealing with _those_ two would've been a nightmare._

"And the kids?"

"I told them that daddy had an important meeting and that he was not to be disturbed." He adjusts his robes. "In fact, I told very few people the exact nature of your…_guest's_ visit. The more people who know, the greater chance this becomes public knowledge, and neither you nor I wants to deal with the extra scrutiny and invasion of privacy that comes when an Avatar is romantically involved. I can't have photographers and journalists sneaking onto the island and disrupting everyone's lives."

"I appreciate your discretion Tenzin, I really do, but – why are you being such a hardass?" He frowns at her. "I mean, the big show with the guards, you acting all surly-faced…I mean, surlier than you normally are…"

Tenzin purses his lips. "After what happened with Tarrlok, you'll understand if I'm feeling overly cautious. I'm fairly sure that he wasn't just interested in your political attributes."

"I know what I'm doing, Tenzin," she says, taking another sip of her tea.

He snorts derisively. "Korra, you may feel that being the Avatar makes you invincible, but you are young and have lived a relatively sheltered life. There are plenty of men in the world who would want to take advantage of your youth and inexperience."

"Is that what Pema's parents said when she brought you to meet them?"

Tenzin's mouth goes wide and he tries to sputter a response, his face growing redder and redder by the second.

_Yeah that's right,_ she says silently, allowing herself a small smile._ Take your self-righteous attitude and shove it._

Noatak coughs and she suspects he's disguising some rather inopportune laughter.

"Councilman, if I may, says Noatak, taking another sip of his tea, "I couldn't help but notice that you have yet to ask for my name."

"And I noticed, sir, that you have failed to give it," counters Tenzin.

_So he can't win either way. Real nice move, Tenzin._

"So I have," says Noatak with a smile. "My name is Konaat."

She smiles behind her teacup. _Clever alias._

"My father was from the Earth Kingdom, my mother from the Northern Water Tribe. They met when business took him to the North Pole. They took a liking to one another. Soon after, they were married, and moved to Ba Sing Se, where I was born and raised."

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"No," Noatak says sadly. "Not anymore."

She lowers her head and pretends to drink in order to hide the look of surprise on her face.

While Noatak _was_ a fantastic actor, the emotion in his voice was in no way faked at all.

_Noatak had siblings and he didn't tell me._

"How did-" begins Tenzin.

"I would rather not discuss it. It was a very painful episode in our family's history."

"Fair enough," says Tenzin. "What is your profession?"

"I am a simple laborer – I work on the docks mostly, helping to load and unload cargo to and from the ships. My schedule is somewhat sporadic, but I usually work nights – I find myself most alert during the moonlight hours." Noatak points to the "injuries" on his face. "Though I've discovered that my alertness can only help so much."

"So how does someone like you run into the Avatar?"

"We enjoy many of the same places. I happened to drop in at an opportune moment, and there she was. Things were rocky at first – we quickly formed opinions about one another, and not very favorable opinions at that – but we both sensed a meaningful undercurrent in our conversations, so we continued to meet. Our romantic entanglement developed naturally from that."

"That's a rather vague answer," says Tenzin pointedly.

"I'm sure the Avatar will be more than happy to provide you with all the details you require."

_Aaaaand this is veering into dangerous territory._

"Whoa, slow down Tenzin," she interrupts, trying to defuse the growing tension. "Look, I get that you want to make sure this guy is not a creep – an idiot, yes, he can be-" She ignores the look Noatak throws at her "-but he is not required to share every single little detail of his life with you."

"It's not out of order for me to try and ensure your well-being! Look Korra, I'm only trying to-"

But suddenly there are two yelps from outside, and the door slides open to reveal a disheveled and annoyed-looking Pema holding Jinora and Ikki by the ears.

"Pema, when did you wake up?" asks Tenzin.

"Just now." She turns and gives her husband a glare. "You need to get your ears checked. A deaf man could hear these two breathing from behind the door."

"Jinora, Ikki!" says Tenzin, raising his voice just enough to let his anger show. "What are you doing here? I told you that daddy-"

"Pfsh. You had the 'big secrets' look you always get. Of course we were going to spy on you guys," says Ikki.

"Where is your brother?"

"Probably practicing his farts or something. He would've been too loud anyways," says Jinora dismissively.

"And how much did you two hear?" he asks sternly.

"Oh, pretty much everything," says Ikki, wriggling out of her mother's grip and airbending over the length of the table in order to stand next to Noa.

She leans down over him, and starts bombarding him with questions.

"What's your favorite color? Your smell weird. Is that perfume? I bet it is. Do you like big ships or small ships better? Your eye is really funny-looking."

Noatak nearly chokes on his mouthful of tea. Ikki's questions continue with no sign of ever ceasing.

"Have you eaten yet? You guys should probably eat soon. Do you ever get to go sailing _on_ the ships? Can you b-"

"Ikki!" say Tenzin and Pema in unison.

"Hmph." Ikki airbends back over the table to her mother.

"Can we at least stay and talk to him?" asks Jinora.

"Absolutely no-"

"_Tenzin_," says Pema exasperatedly.

"Oh, fine," he says, giving up. "Jinora, you can stay. Ikki, go to your room!"

"But-"

"That's final! And you are not to discuss anything you've heard with anyone other than myself, your mother, your sister or Korra. _I mean it._"

"No fair," she says dejectedly.

Pema nods her head towards the door. _Go on, now_.

Ikki disappears behind the screen.

_Whew. That was close._

Then Ikki pops her head back around the door.

"Are you and Tarrlok long-lost brothers?" she asks Noatak.

His eyes bulge and he sprays his mouthful of tea out across the table.

"Ikki!" shout her parents.

"What?" she says innocently. "He smells funny and he has long hair and he has that weird face that both of them have-"

But Pema unceremoniously shoves her youngest daughter through the door. "_Out_."

"Aww," says Ikki, and she stomps away pouting as the door closes.

Silence reigns over the room.

"I apologize for the mess," says Noatak uneasily, trying to mop up tea and spittle with his jacket and failing miserably. "The question was…startling, to say the least."

"Don't worry about it," says Jinora with an eye roll. "Ikki has always been annoying like that."

"I take it Councilman Tarrlok has dined here before?"

"More like he dropped in uninvited," mutters Pema.

"As much of a headache as Ikki can be, I'll admit, she does have a point," adds Jinora.

"Jinora…" says Pema warningly.

"I mean, you both have the whole old, sturdy, dark and mysterious vibe. Well, maybe not dark in your case." She gives Noatak an apologetic look. "But-" She gives a sly smile. "-I can see why Korra _liiiiikes _you. You're cute."

Tenzin gives his eldest a horrified look and turns to his wife for aid; Pema merely shrugs as if to say "_What? The girl's telling the truth."_

_Spirits, __**kill me now.**_

"Hey, uh, I don't know about everyone else," she offers, "but I'm kinda hungry."

* * *

The rest of the evening goes much smoother (relatively speaking) by comparison. The meal is a mostly vegetarian affair, but Pema had taken the liberty of preparing some meat-based dishes for which she and Noatak are immensely grateful.

Jinora's questions are much more intellectual and less invasive than Ikki's. Noatak offers his opinions on classic romance novels, advice on how to handle younger siblings, whispering suggestions for catching a young lover's heart.

Tenzin asks increasingly obtuse questions about Noatak's background and intentions, and at one point broaches the subject of the Equalist movement, as if sensing that Noatak is some kind of undercover agent (which he technically was); at this query, however, Pema merely smiles and says "not at the table, dear," her eyes conveying the implied threat of bodily harm she would inflict on her husband should he not heed her words.

The question is quickly dropped.

* * *

Dinner finally comes to its painful conclusion: plates are cleared, full bellies patted; Jinora clears the dishes, and Tenzin stifles a yawn.

"Well," he begins, "it seems we must bid each other goodnight. Korra, I trust that Konaat can see himself home?"

"With the way the city is at night?" she says with forced concern. "And the Equalists stepping things up? I couldn't possibly send him home alone. He should spend the night. I'd be happy to keep him in my room," she finishes, giving Tenzin a satisfied smile.

Tenzin immediately tries to protest, but Pema, seemingly satisfied with Noatak's character and confident in her belief that he only means well, quickly covers her husband's mouth. "I think that's perfectly fine Korra. You know where the spare linens are if you need them. I trust that you'll be the consummate gentlemen, Mr. Konaat?"

"As you say madam," says Noatak with a small smile.

"Good. Come along dear," she says, pulling Tenzin to his feet and dragging him away. "You'll be watching the baby tonight."

"But _Pema-_" Tenzin's voice fades into the distance.

Jinora stares at them for a moment, a goofy grin and a deep blush spreading across her face before she disappears to her own bedroom.

"Well, it's safe to say that everyone knows we're not planning to get any sleep tonight," says Noatak dryly as they head towards Korra's room. Then his face contorts to a weird expression. "Tenzin…would he-"

"-post someone outside to make sure we weren't doing it? Not if Pema has anything to say about it."

"Ah, good."

"Still, we should probably keep things quiet."

"Agreed."

"Do you think he's was satisfied with you answers?"

"No," he scoffs. "He'll send someone to the docks or discreetly make inquiries himself. But we have contingencies for this sort of thing, authorities prying into the backstories of our operatives. I may have to appear down there for a few days, but it'll be worth it to throw him off."

Naga is waiting inside the room, and barks happily upon seeing the two of them.

"I know, I've been gone a lot," she says, ruffling her pet's head.

"Hello Naga," says Noatak softly. The dog nuzzles his hand in response.

"Alright girl. Go on. Out," she says fondly, and the Naga leaves, her tail joyfully wagging behind her.

_Alone at last._

The two of them look around the room.

"You know, I've dreamed about having you in here," she confesses.

"Having me, or having me?"

"Both," she says with a smile. "Granted, your first appearance wasn't at the best of times," she jokes. "And then…well, you know what happened afterwards. Still – it's nice when a girl gets what she wants."

"I would hate to disappoint, then."

Noatak moves behind her, places his hands across her abdomen.

"Let me make your dreams come true," he murmurs as he leans forward.

He kisses her on the neck repeatedly until she tilts her head back and gives him easier access. His knee slides in between her legs, and his hand follows shortly thereafter, his fingers diving beneath the waistband of her pants, gently pulling on the soft blanket of her mound before sinking deep into her; she is wet, she is wet and she is _wanting_ and _spirits help me,__** he is really going to fuck me in **_**my****_ bedroom. In _my_ bed.  
_**

"_Nnnnhguahh_!" she cries out as her muscles clench around him, pleasure rippling through her body.

"Now, now," he whispers, covering her mouth with his other hand and slipping two fingers between her lips. "No more noise."

And while she usually would normally be happy to argue the point, this time, she follows his order without question.

* * *

**Author's note: **This was another chapter that seemed straightforward in theory but was actually rather difficult in the writing. I would elaborate more on the second half of dinner, but I feel like more questions from Tenzin would be belaboring the point. If anyone DOESN'T think that more would be excessive, then I can always do a re-edit.

SPEAKING OF WHICH…

I have edited almost all of the preceding chapters: most of the edits were to the author's notes, but at least three chapters I edited to make the verb tenses correspond with the remainder of the series (and once the fic is finished, if not sooner, I will edit this note too). So if the urge to reread strikes you, and you think something has changed, it probably has.

The dinner conversation originally involved Asami, Mako and Bolin as well, but I was pretty sure that I'd have to break from third-person limited in order to accurately keep track of all the characters (there'd be at least four "she's" in the room), to say nothing of the fact that it contradicted Tenzin's desire for secrecy.


	19. Lychee Nuts

**_"It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life."_**

* * *

She is fast asleep when her ears register the creaking door. By the time she hears Noatak's footsteps, the auditory signals have fully roused her from her slumber.

She yawns as her limbs stretch awkwardly beneath the sheets. She forces herself to sit up, her eyes blinking in the morning sunlight as she turns to look at her boyfriend: his eyes are bloodshot, his clothing disheveled, his face weary.

"Rough night?" she asks.

"The worst," he groans. She opens her mouth, but he puts up a hand. "Don't. Even if I wanted to tell you, I couldn't."

He slumps down next to her and sighs in relief. "Are you free tonight?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure." She notes an edge in his voice. "What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing...well, I mean, I want to do something..." He huffs in frustration. "You know what? I'm too tired to think straight. You pick what we do tonight." He kicks off his boots. "Make it something special," he adds. "Wear something nice," he finishes with a smile.

He's asleep within moments.

She runs her fingers through his hair. _Something's up. Something big. _But she's not in the mood to figure it out.

She drags herself out of bed and grabs an apple from the kitchen counter, munching on it as she quietly slips out the door.

She tiptoes down the stairs and onto the street, finding their usual delivery of the _Republic City __Times_ on the bottom step.

_I should check the arts section_, she thinks, turning towards the back of the paper. They had gone to a lovely sungi horn concert last week. _Maybe there'll be another performance._

But the sungi player had apparently moved on to tour some of the smaller Earth Kingdom cities. _Shoot._

Going to a dance hall was out - too public. Not that she was a great dancer anyways. She'd heard that Aang was, though.

_Would be nice to call on the Avatar State, learn a few moves,_ she joked.

Then she noticed a small blurb in the bottom left corner of the last page. It had a picture of her on it - her and Noatak! _Well, technically of Amon._

It was their faces mashed together, one half hers and the other half the imposing porcelain mask.

_"Ember Island Pictures presents the riveting, untold, unauthorized tale of the War for Republic City"_

She didn't know whether to be flattered or outraged. Obviously this was unauthorized as she'd never been asked permission to use her likeness (or they'd asked, been refused by someone other than her, and did it anyway). No way they asked Noatak for _his_ permission.

And yet...

She neatly folds the paper back up and tucks it under her arm, grinning triumphantly.

"Make it something special, huh?"

* * *

When she returns to the apartment that evening, she opens the door, catches Noatak's eye and smirks as his jaw falls open.

She's wearing a royal blue evening dress with lacy black sleeves; the dress shows the perfect amount of decolletage. A blood-red sash hangs around her waist, finished off with a large bowtie. The ensemble is capped with black heels, a stunning pair of crystal earrings, and a crystal necklace with spread wings, obviously meant to be a bird of some kind.

"You look...well...wow," is all he can say.

"It's just something I threw together."

"Please give my complements to Miss Sato. She has impeccable taste."

"What makes you think-"

"The jewelry gives it away. They're real diamond, not crystal. I recognize the design and know that that jeweler caters almost exclusi - she didn't tell you where it really came from, did she?" he realizes, grinning.

"She told me it was some random thing she found in the department store," she says in disbelief. "That sneaky bitch," she mutters. "In a good way, in a good way!" she adds quickly after he shoots her an astonished eyebrow. "Okay, so maybe I had a _little_ help getting ready."

Noatak is dressed in the same black and red suit, the same facial alterations in place - and he's made dinner, from the looks of it: a beautiful looking fillet over a bed of rice and a small portion of vegetables.

"What is it?" she asks excitedly.

"Fillet of snakefish served over sesame, jasmine scented rice with a side of bamboo," he says, smiling. "Once I had a nap, I made the most of your absence."

"I can't wait to eat it." She moves for the chair, but Noatak beats her to it and pulls it out so she can sit down.

"Mmm, a good cook and a consummate gentleman."

"Ah, so you're just now realizing it?" he teases as he takes his seat., but she is already biting into the fish: it's flaky and buttery and if she could ever seriously claim to have an orgasm from food, it would be at this exact moment.

She's too happy right now to give her usual retort.

But not happy enough to quiet the anxious tugging of her heart.

They quickly finish their meal, and after a couple "thank you" kisses they head out the door and climb into the satomobile.

"Your driving's gotten much better," he remarks as they drive along.

"Thanks. Asami's been giving me lessons," she says while indicating for a left turn.

"So, where are we going tonight?"

"You'll see," she says coyly.

* * *

"You can't be serious," groans Noatak.

"It's perfect," she insists.

"How that troupe ever came up with the capital to finance a movie is beyond me. They're terrible," he huffs.

"They're a Fire Nation treasure," retorts Korra, "well known, well traveled and well resp...well known."

He gives her a look that clearly says _I can see right though your bullshit_, but he sighs and exclaims "Let's just get this over with."

There is quite the crowd gathered outside, so as they approach the theater she draws her shawl over the lower half of her face, hoping to retain some measure of anonymity

As it turns out, the shawl was completely unnecessary.

When they reach the ticket booth and pay their entrance fee, the attendant hands them two familiar-looking masks.

"Here you go," says the reedy-looking employee. "Enjoy the show."

She stares at the Amon mask.

She turns to stare at Noatak.

He stares right back at her.

She places the paper face over own and sticks out her tongue.

The two of them burst into a fit of giggling.

* * *

The lights dim, and the advertisements are quickly flashed across the screen. Noatak chuckles at the clearly misplaced ad for Sato Industries (_or maybe not_, she thinks to herself). Then his eyes widen, as if he just remembered something. He disappears towards the lobby and then reappears just as the Ember Island Pictures logo appears.

"Bathroom?" she whispers to him.

"Lychee nuts," he whispers back. "I saw a small food cart on the way in."

"What, no popcorn?"

"Grease," he says, pointing at her dress.

"Fruit juice," she counters, pointing at the bag.

"They're dried, they have no juice!"

The "Shhh!" comes from several directions.

_Whoops_, she thinks sheepishly as she (quietly) grabs a handful of nuts and settles down to watch the picture.

The first image appears onscreen: it's a dark, cloudy city skyline.

"In Republic City, a war has been raging for a long time. A war of principles and passions," begins the narrator.

The city scape fades slightly as an image of her and Noatak's actors is superimposed over it.

"A war of hearts and forbidden love."

The image is replaced with a shot of Amon wreathed in silent flames.

"Amon," the narrator says menacingly. "A man of mystery...is he a movement...or a monster?"

Noatak just shrugs his shoulders and bites into a nut.

"His origins are unknown, his purpose clear, his will absolute..."

The picture fades to white, finally focusing on a ridiculous-looking tent that she realizes is supposed to be her parents' home. The camera zooms through the wall to show her "parents" (who are shades lighter than they are in real life, she fumes) lifting her infant body into the air like she was some trophy.

"Look, the Avatar is born!" exclaims the narrator, filling in Senna and Tonraq's dialogue. "We are honored to give birth to one such as her."

"I think they whitewashed my parents," she murmurs to Noatak.

"At least they got _your_ complexion right."

The film then spends the next twenty minutes painting an elaborate and not entirely accurate portrait of her upbringing, with more than a few digs at Water Tribe culture.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same," she grumbles.

"Yes, but it's so blatant that it's...kind of adorable, really," Noa remarks appreciatively.

She wants to respond, but then her teenaged self finally appears onscreen.

_At least my color's still right_, she thinks gratefully..._but that actress has no muscle tone at all – it's like they didn't make her train or anything...and her boobs are bigger than mine_, she realizes, her eyes widening. _Way bigger!_

"That girl is _not me_!" she hisses in Noa's ear.

"I know. Your bosom is not quite as generous..."

She feels a hand on her breast and has to suppress a squeak.

"The perfect size by my estimation."

The next shot is a juxtaposition of movie!Korra stowing away to Republic City against Amon staring menacingly at a photograph of the Avatar.

"How would you even have that? The White Lotus guards never let the press get anywhere near-"

"Shhh," he cuts her off. "I'm trying to enjoy the movie."

_Well, at least one of us is enjoying this travesty._

* * *

The movie plods through the chaos and confusion of her first weeks in Republic City: her performances in the probending ring, the smoke-filled mess of the rally until it comes to the night on Aang Memorial Island.

In the film, Korra barely takes one step into the building before she is rushed by an army of chi-blockers and menaced by Amon in a scene that lacks any subtlety regarding the palpable sexual tension between the two parties.

Well, there _should've_ been palpable sexual tension, except that the wooden, over-the-top acting made it seem hammy and trite.

"You know, something I always wondered about: why didn't you rush me with an army of chi-blockers?"

"Oh, I was planning to," he admits casually. "But in the end, ego and intrigue won out over my usual brand of cold pragmatism."

"And by 'intrigue,' you mean massive boner."

_"Intrigue."_

They stare at the screen.

"You know, I remember it being a lot more exciting than this," he murmurs.

"You would say that," she mumbles.

* * *

_She's been standing outside for what seems like ages. She's tired and cranky and ready to go home. _

_Suddenly two chains wrap around her wrists and she's yanked backwards into the darkness of the memorial hall, landing flat on her face._

_She gets up and immediately summons flames to her hands – and the blood freezes in her veins._

_"Hello, Avatar," says Amon coolly. "I received your invitation."_

_She launches fireballs at him, but he effortlessly dodges them, then yanks on the chains to send her to the floor again._

_"You should be less agitated. I could've brought backup. But you're a teenager, and easily handled by someone such as myself."_

_"Asshole!" she spits. "Come and fight me like a man!"_

_He slides up behind her and knocks a series of points up her back; immediately her right arm goes numb and fireballs cease to appear from that hand._

_"Careful what you wish for."_

_She flails wildly, launching flame after flame after flame, trying desperately to connect a hit, any hit, but he moves in front of her this time and pokes up her left side. That arm goes numb too._

_"You-" He disables her left leg. "-really should-" And the right leg. "-stop fighting."_

_He gets the chains around her waist, and pulls her back against his chest._

_The most feared criminal in Republic City has her trapped. And he did it alone.  
_

_What would've happened if_ had _brought his army with him?_

_"Like I said-" He wraps one arm around her waist; the other comes up across her chest to grasp her throat. _

_"-easily handled."_

_She can feel his heart beating against her back. Being this close to Amon is terrifying._

_No…that's not the right word._

_There's fear, yes but there's also…a thrill._

What the hell is wrong with me?

_"Now, Avatar, you could try and fight me and I would inflict serious bodily harm upon your person. Or, we can stand here and talk like civilized individuals."_

_"You have me tied up."_

_"You can bend, I can't. And in all fairness, you did try to roast me." He gently squeezes her throat. "Unless you prefer that I finish what I started."_

_"So…I guess we'll be talking for a while, then?"_

_"Until your idiot friends in the police department decide to show up. And don't worry...I promise not to do anything that you don't want me to."_

_"Besides keeping me tied up."_

_He yanks her around until she's facing him._

_"Obviously. So," he says, his voice getting lower and surprisingly husky, "what  
_do_ you want, Avatar."_

_She stammers for a bit until she says "To talk."_

_And so they talk. _

_And talk. And talk._

_And before she knows it, their conversation has gone on for the better part of an hour._

_ In the middle of a rant about the absurd hiring rates of benders in the service industry, he suddenly looks up and narrows his eyes. _

_"I believe your friends are coming for you, Avatar." And sure enough, she can hear some shouts coming closer and closer._

_"Why don't you stay and I'll introduce you?" she responds sarcastically._

_"Oh, we'll become acquainted soon enough – but on my terms, not theirs."_

_He gently unhooks the manacles from her wrists and unwinds her chains. She gingerly rubs the skin to which the metal was tightly fastened._

_"This has been…enlightening, Avatar." He stares at her peculiarly. "In truth, despite your naïvety and obliviousness to the world past your own nose…there is…" Amon seems to be struggling with something. "I'd like for us to meet again."_

_She bursts out laughing, at least until she looks in his eyes and realizes that he's quite serious._

_"You really mean it," she says, stunned._

_"I believe that you can be reasoned with more than the other parties in this conflict. In truth, I would much prefer a private negotiation with the Avatar to brawling in the streets with Chief Beifong's finest."_

_Part of her is flattered, part of her wants to use it as a ploy to take him down herself, and part of her is telling her to _run the fuck away.

_In the end, flattery and guile persuade her._

_"Alright. I'm in."_

_"There's a Cabbage Corp factory in the west end that was guttered by a fire; the company never decided what to do with it, so it lies there unaddressed and unattended. Meet me on the roof tomorrow night."_

_"When, exactly?"_

_"Don't worry. I'll show up…eventually. He retreats further and further away from the light of the doorframe._

_ "Good night, Avatar," he says as he vanishes into the dark.  
_

* * *

"Are you still hung up about being tied up?"

"Yes!"

"Honestly Korra, you need to learn let things go."

The argument would've continued, but onscreen Amon dismisses his chi-blockers, leaving him and Korra alone in the dark. Then, after making sure they're truly alone, he pulls the Avatar's lips to his own for a searing kiss.

"It's wrong…but I can't stop thinking about you, Avatar. You consume my every waking thought, and every dream is one of you," says the narrator in his best Amon voice. Movie!Korra pants heavily, seemingly overcome by the stunning turn of events.

She and Noatak snort derisively, but coos and sighs and squeals of delight come from about the theater.

"Wait a minute…I thought the filmmakers were just doing this for the controversy," she whispers to Noa. "You mean people actually like the idea of…_us_?"

"It's…alarming, but not surprising. Enemies turned lovers – it's one of the oldest and greatest romantic clichés. The opposite of love isn't hate, Korra, it's indifference. Having an emotional response to someone, even a negative one, shows that there's a basic connection there…it just might require a particular set of circumstances to turn that connection from rancor to rapture. People really respond to that idea."

"But why?" she asks, still not getting it.

"I thought you of all people would understand Korra."

They glance at the image of movie!Korra staring into the night.

"Because doing something forbidden is often the most rewarding experience of all."

* * *

_This is the twelfth night in three weeks that they've done this, meeting on the factory roof. _

_There's still a sense of unease, a sense of wariness in her belly, but she has grown comfortable around her enemy._

_She sits on the edge, her legs dangling over the lip of the building as she listens to Amon's explanation of how ineffective and corrupt the city council has become, and tries not to draw any parallels between her literal and metaphorical positions at the moment._

_Because, in many ways, she is on the edge._

_Something is there. Something _is_ there. _

_There is something between them. Something buried beneath their arguments, beneath the pointed fingers, beneath the (barely) civil discussions and their mutual stuggles not to inflict their abilities on one another. Every moment that they spend together makes him seem less like a monster and more like…well, someone dangerous but extremely charming and intelligent and…attractive, even with the mask._

_Then as she opens her mouth to cut him off and respond, the moon hits his mask just right and it doesn't look menacing at all, his eyes no longer cold and watchful but beautiful and inviting; then she notices that he's stopped talking, and he's staring at her and it scares her, and then he lifts the mask _just_ over his lips and moves towards her, and then she's kissing him. She is kissing him. _

She is kissing Amon.

_The kiss is gentle and fragile, like a insect's wing. It's as if they can't fathom what they're doing, as though they want to deny the moment even as it happens. _

_She pulls away, and they stare once more._

_Then he dives for her, and she does _not_ throw him off, and as their bodies tangle and their hands wander, she realizes that sense of unease was the rational part of her mind trying desperately to compartmentalize the want, the need that had been bubbling beneath the surface, something that she didn't even know she was capable of._

_He had sworn to destroy her; she had promised to kick his ass and yet here they were, tongues sliding back and forth between their lips._

_It was so _wrong_, and yet it felt absolutely _perfect_._

* * *

The attack on the arena was done well enough, and the bomb effects weren't half bad either. But Noatak was grousing.

"Needs more blood. Needs more violence. Needs more explosions! Explosions make everything better."

The underground assault on Sato's factory ends with another clandestine meeting between herself and Amon, and the two make a tearful, honest confession of love (courtesy of the narrator).

"Okay, seriously, us falling in love is unlikely enough, but running into you when I was taking down Sato? Way too convenient. That's just lazy writing."

But the worst bit in her mind is the scene where Amon sneaks into her room on Air Temple Island and discovers the Avatar clad only in a risque nightdress. Amon advances on her, Korra automatically yields to him and the screen fades to black as the two of them fall onto the bed, kissing. "_No way in hell_ that would _actually_-"

Noatak coughs and she realizes how hypocritical she sounds given that he's been in her bedroom _twice_.

"I mean," she says, coloring, "no way would I automatically spread my legs for anyone who was dumb enough to sneak into my room on a romantic inclination."

He nods as if to say "better."

Tarrlok's kidnapping is presented as the tragic consequences of two rivals fighting for the hand of the Avatar, where her one true love supposedly triumphs.

She covers her face when she hears the amorous sighs from some of the audience members.

"I don't believe this. I don't fucking believe this."

Fortunately Noa seems as uncomfortable as she does.

* * *

After ninety painful, gut-wrenching minutes, the faux-biographical romantic travesty ends with a poorly shot final battle (with even worse special effects) between Korra and Amon, resulting in the former killing the latter in defense of Republic City only to succumb to her broken heart a few moments later.

The credits roll and the lights come up. She surveys the room and sees an odd mixture of happy tears, wide-eyed excitement, disapproving headshakes, looks of confusion and those who succumbed to sleep.

"That…was _lame_," she exclaims.

"Effects could've used more work," critiques Noatak, popping the last lychee nut into his mouth.

"The whole fucking film could've used more work," she counters.

As they walk out into the lobby, they overhear a gaggle of young teens talking animatedly about the film.

"Oh. My. Goodness," says a girl in red. "That was fantastic!"

"I wanted her to have more romance with Tarrlok! He's so dreamy," says a boy in blue.

"Meeting Amon in Sato's hideout was dumb," says a girl in green.

_Ah, someone else gets it_, she thinks.

"They should've met in a cave. A secret cave. Caves are dark and romantic," says the green girl dreamily.

_Aaaaand I spoke too soon._

"Pssh. That's a dumb idea," says a boy in black.

"Only because you didn't think of it first." The green girl sticks her tongue out.

"Well, this has been fun," murmurs Noatak in her ear. "But I'm ready to go home. Shall we?"

_No_, she thinks. _I want to interrogate those punks. _

But she takes his arm, and they leave the theater, their masks still firmly in place.

* * *

The car ride home is silent, aside from some cracks Noatak makes about the film. At one stoplight she removes their masks and quickly reduces the paper toys to ashes.

They arrive and walk up the stairs to the apartment. It suddenly hits her as she puts her key in the lock: the truth that's been staring her in the face, the same unease, the same wrongness she felt all those months ago when he'd first caught her on the island, when they began the rooftop meets.

Only back then, it had signaled a beginning.

Now, it was signaling an end.

She has to steady herself on the door.

"Korra, is something wr-" begins Noatak, but she recovers and turns to face him.

"This is it, isn't it?" she says dully. "You're saying goodbye."

His eyes dim, his face betraying a mixture of guilt, acceptance, admiration and sorrow. "Yes, love. I'm saying goodbye." He takes her hand.

"When did you decide?"

"About three weeks ago. Things were at a point, and I could delay no further – well, no further than this." He chuckles bitterly. "The universe seemed perfectly fine to draw things out until it could be assured that neither of us would escape with our feelings intact. I can hear the spirits laughing at us from here."

"Yeah, they can be jerks sometimes," she says quietly, resting her free hand on the doorknob.

A pause.

"Do you remember the first time we went to bed?" she asks softly.

"Yes," he smiles. "I remember bringing you the spare uniform and giving you a time and place to meet me at one of the secret entrances – and telling you that you should learn to sneak around, just in case you weren't able to meet me personally."

She fingers the inside of her elbow. "I was terrified the whole time. Terrified that you were just using me, that it was all an elaborate trap. And I had never…I mean, I got pretty close with one of my guards…but this was all new to me." She looks down at her feet. "But you probably knew that."

"I had my suspicions."

"And I remember that you wanted to keep your mask on, and that you wanted to be on top. I let you have the first…and fought you for the second. And I won."

"I let you win," he smirks. "To reel you in, as it were."

"Fine. I would've won anyway," she insists, blushing. "The point is – it was awkward and strange but also an awakening, a realization…" She chokes back the invisible thing that threatened to silence her voice. "It wasn't perfect. I don't think I expected it to be perfect. I'm a messy person. Being an Avatar is messy. But we worked at it, and things got better. _We got better. _So…in spite of all the fucked up, messed up shit we've done to and through each other…I don't regret this. Regrets, yes, there will always be some. But _this_?"

She cups his cheek.

"We should be _proud_ of _this_."

Noatak grabs the hand on his cheek and brings it to his lips, slowly kissing each digit.

"Well…" he says with false cheer, "…I say we should celebrate, then."

* * *

They are supposed to forget each other after tonight, but come sunrise the finger bruises on her back and the nail scratches on his will only serve as painful reminders, in every sense, of this last moment together.

She clings to him, and him to her, like drowning sailors scrabbling for a life preserver.

Her hips rise as his fall away, and now more than ever she is painfully aware of the tiny absence that forms every time he pulls back, only to drive into her again.

He's making love to her, and every thrust pushes her spirit higher and higher and higher until her whole body vibrates with unparalleled bliss and orgasm overwhelms her.

And then as body and soul come down,the respite is over, and her mind recalls the harsh reality of what's happening, and this shining moment becomes horrifying, unbearable. All of a sudden this position: her resting in his lap, his face buried between her breasts, his tongue licking and sucking and biting at her flesh, is too intimate. Too close.

She needs to get away.

"Stop, stop," she says, abruptly bringing her pelvic thrusts to a halt.

"What is it?" he asks.

She climbs off of him and, after taking a long breath, arranges herself on all fours atop of the sheets.

Without even looking at him she can see the look of astonishment, feel the disbelief radiating from his body.

She has always denied him this. No amount of convincing or cajoling had ever made her change her mind. But now it suits _her_ desires, just not the ones she dares to explore only within her dreaming hours – the wants she thought, for the longest time, made her cheap and slatternly, wants that if acted upon might enslave her to a man who could use those wants so effectively against her.

She needs him to be rough. Needs him to be cruel. To unleash a part of him he'd worked so hard to change, or at least bury.

He tenderly runs a hand up her arm and across her back. She fears he won't press the opening.

But in a rare moment of triumph for her inner strategist, Noatak takes the bait.

He settles behind her, grabs her hips and slams into her.

He is not gentle. There is no warmth, no love in his movements. His noises are feral; grunting and snarling, no whispered platitudes of love, no careful communication.

This is about power and strength and speed.

This is about fucking.

_It feels **good**._

She tries not to think about how good it feels, how he's making her cunt _sing_, how nothing coherent can come out of her mouth.

She bites into the pillow and tries to focus on the stinging pain of her ass and thighs.

Some seven minutes pass before he lets out a roar and squeezes her hips well past the point of pain and then hunches over her back, panting like Naga after a long run.

She disengages and slides forward till she's resting on her side. She can't tell whether the tears in her eyes are of pain, of shame or of disappointment.

Silence rules the night until a voice from behind her timidly asks "Korra, did...did that make it...make it any easier for you?"

_He knew_, she realizes. _He knew what I was trying to do and went with it anyway. _

"No," she mumbles to the air in front of her.

Noatak instantly curls up behind her, wrapping her lovingly in his arms. "Me neither," he confesses in a whisper.

They lie there in the dark until she feels him growing hard again, and she rubs her slit against his shaft until she slips and buries him in her warmth once more.

"Korra-"

"One last dance. Give me one last dance."

She hooks her left leg over his, and he leans over to nibble her neck; she twists her head so she can kiss him, and kiss him, and keep kissing him; their lips stay locked together as their fingers meet over her clit to twist and turn their way to pleasure.

At last they are completely spent; when she comes, the only sound she makes is a short, empty _*huh*, _and the sensation of his seed spilling in her cunt seems so small in comparison to the two bouts before it.

He doesn't remove his flaccid member and she doesn't ask him to.

"I came up with a new ending for the movie," whispers Noatak, running his fingers through her hair. "We don't kill each other in battle. We hold everyone in a giant room with no food and water until they break down and form a new government, a new society, one where benders and non-benders really are treated equally."

The tears start running down her cheeks.

"We go to the Pole – either one, it doesn't matter." His voice quavers. "We build a house. We have sex every night, twice a night - no, make that three times a night. We have a dozen bawling, messy, needy babies. We raise them to be twelve handsome, brilliant, productive members of the world. We grow old and fat and stupid together, and die in the middle of a marathon sex session. The end."

"Sounds perfect," she sobs. "But you're carrying all the kids to term. You ready to spend nine years of your life pregnant?"

"Anything for you, love," he answers.

She can feel something wet on the back of her neck.

She grabs his hand and squeezes, and at the same time squeezes her inner muscles – one final gesture, one last false assurance.

"Be here when I wake up?"

He squeezes her hand back and jiggles his hips, moving the softened flesh inside her.

"Where else would I be?"

In time, sleep finally drags her into darkness.

* * *

When morning breaks, she finds herself in her room on Air Temple Island, fully dressed and smelling like jasmine.

She buries her head into the pillow, screams and then tears at the fabric until a cloud of feathers erupts into the air around her.

* * *

**Author's note: **Give me your FEEEELS...*ahem*...I mean, your feedback (please), especially about the sex scene at the end. Was it too gratuitous? Too self-indulgent? Too dark?

The battle for Republic City begins next chapter.


End file.
